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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 21 days

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Human Shield - F1 Grid

Request from @kissjde - omg that one vid of the girl using carlos as a shield kinda for when they were spraying champagne🫠 can u like somehow make a fic of that??

I think you wanted a Carlos fic, but I kind of have an idea for an F1 grid fic that I think would be perfect for this. So...sorry if you hate it 🥴

Red Bull driver!reader

Y/n swallows as she gets into the Red Bull cockpit.

She's been in the car for testing but in Bahrain but they'd altered things for the first race weekend based on data and feedback thanks to testing.

Taking it out on the track for a proper race weekend is scary.

Helmut took a risk with y/n. He insisted she could handle the mature team after test driving some FP1 sessions last season. But now it's the real thing.

Now she's in the Red Bull and going out on track to really prove herself.

"You got this, love." Her mechanic, Eric smiles patting the top of her helmet before helping strap her in. "Remember, just have fun. You're here living the dream."

"You think?" She jokes but the nerves spiking in her voice just earns her a sympathetic look.

Suddenly when she is face with another helmet leaning into her cockpit.

Max has been weirdly protective over y/n, she's faced a lot of backlash almost similar to his. But hers is very much gender targeted just as much as a question of her experience. But he's been incredibly protective and he always tries to make sure that she's not letting her nerves get the better of her.

"I wanted to come say. I want to see you smiling out there and I'll be able to tell." Max states patting her bicep which makes her smile and nod at him.

Max pats her helmet before heading over this own car.

"Radio check, bubs." Her race engineer, Rocky (yes, THE Rocky) states into her radio. Using a nickname he'd given her since she'd came into the Red Bull juniors programme.

He was in charge of mentoring and guiding a lot of juniors and with the promotion of her into F1 and directly into the Red Bull team. They wanted her to have someone she was familiar with on her radio just to at least give her that comfort and Rocky knows how she works better than anyone else.

"Radio check, loud and clear." Y/n replies swallowing to herself.

When she gets out on track she's acutely aware that cameras are very much keeping an eye on her.

"We're just getting a feel of the track, trying out engine set ups remember. No pressure you just trust your feel." Rocky states into her ears as she gets out the pit line.

"And there is y/n y/l/n." Crofty states as the cameras very much do immediately change to watch her. "The world watched her closely in testing. She didn't make any mistakes that we didn't at least see from Max. Now she's out on track."

"She is. I'm quite looking forward to seeing y/n show us what she's capable of. Of course, Red Bull has been quite...kind to her with bringing her in. They've brought in Rocky who worked with Seb but had moved to work more with the junior Red Bull drivers. He's on her radio, they've been very defensive of anyone who has tried to declare her unfit for the seat." Martin explains then sighing. "Now we just need to see what y/n's got and she's got to just put it out on the track."

FP1 ends with her in getting the 4th fastest time. But FP1 doesn't equate to a whole weekend of top 5 performances.

"Hey, bubs." Rocky smiles as she climbs out the car and walks up to him. "Ready for data?"

"Ready." Y/n nods with a small smile.

Y/n actually feels comfortable getting into the car for FP2.

Which is where she makes her first error. Because she should've known being confident in the car would lead to disaster.

There's almost some racing going on and that's when she becomes a victim as she tries to keep out the way of approaching cars. George and Lewis are apparently racing? (idc if people hate me I love making George and Lewis enemies, they basically are irl 🤣)

George gives Lewis a puncture and he smashes into the side of y/n. Actually it hurts more than she was expected when people had warned her of the pain of a crash. His car t-boning her ends up pushing her into the wall too. It's only good she wasn't going fast and he'd somewhat slowed down.

"Y/n? Are you ok?" Rocky's voices asks on the radio.

"Yeah, fuck! What the fuck were they doing?" Y/n questions then sighing.

"Car is safe. P0 then you can get out when you're ready." Rocky sighs making her huff before she quickly detached and unplugs everything, climbing out the car and putting the steering wheel back before walking around to look at the damage.

Her whole engine is exposed and the sided is destroyed.

Fantastic.

George and Lewis seem to be bickering and in her own rage she jumps the wall to safety only briefly exchanging words with the marshalls before climbing on the closest moped and getting back to the paddock.

"That is not a happy woman. George and Lewis don't seem very happy but I can imagine Red Bull are speaking to race control about their actions. Very very silly to be racing each other like that and causing a crash with another team as a victim to it." Martin comments shaking his head.

"Do you think a penalty will be coming their way."

"Red Bull will certainly fight for it. That's their rookie and she sounded very upset. I'm sure Lewis and George will be called to the stewards."

"I think apologies will be owed."

Y/n gets herself weighed but her anger has the better of her and her trainer, Wyatt decides to get her to her drivers room to cool off before there's a debrief.

"It's not your fault." Wyatt states while she tries not to cry.

She hates when she cries because she's angry. But it happens.

"Hey. Come on. It is not your fault, you got out the way and got t-boned by two teammates being idiots." Wyatt sighs moving to hug her.

"It's a joke." Y/n sniffles then sighing. "I should go speak to the rest of the team."

"Ok. Let's go."

Y/n gets to the garage, half an hour still left as she walks across to the pit wall.

"Hey, you ok?" Rocky asks making her tick her jaw to restrain ranting about it. "It's fine. We'll get the car fix and we'll make sure you're nowhere near them tomorrow at any point."

"It's still not great is it?" Y/n huffs shaking her head.

"They're being spoken to by the stewards and it looks like Toto will be having words." Rocky reassures her while she sighs and nods a little.

FP3 is clean and qualifying sees y/n take P5.

"You did it." Max smiles picking her up in a hug as they all walk towards media.

"Yeah, rookie of the year in the bag already." Lando comments making her smile at him. "No Mercedes smashing into you. Did it not hurt? Lewis really t-boned you."

"Yeah, but I think I was too annoyed to actually car...they were acting like dicks. I'm glad they got penalised for it." Y/n sighs still not exactly having forgiven the Brits in their interterm idiocy towards each other.

The three divide, each with a comms team member who leads them to their given interviews.

"Y/n, a much cleaner Saturday than Friday." The interviewer states as y/n stands in the media pit. "How are you feeling? Especially after quite a nasty hit."

"Significantly better day. I feel fine, maybe some very little aches but nothing major." Y/n smiles with a nod. "P5 not bad for a first qualifying. And I only plan to move up from there for the rest of the races."

"I love the optimism and confidence. I know I speak for so many people that we are rooting for you."

"Thank you." Y/n laughs then moving forward and hugging the interviewer. "Really, thank you."

The driver's parade saw all oft he drivers surrounding y/n like she's just the most popular person. Pulling her away for an interview with Laura actually saw Max have to be forced to stop hugging her with Lando and Carlos pulling her teammates arms from around her.

That quickly created rumours online of them dating.

But Max is definitely more like a friend who almost acts like a brother.

"You got this. We believe in you." Carlos states as she grins at him, blowing him and Lando a kiss as they walk to their cars after the anthem.

Y/n gets her helmet and hans device on while Wyatt smiles at her looking like he's beaming with pride, just seeing her go into her first race.

"Alright, feel good?" Wyatt asks making her nod. "Go on then, time to go show the world they're fucking morons."

"I will." Y/n grins fist bumping him before she moves climbing into the cockpit.

They get her strapped in and suddenly she's on her own.

"Radio check bubs." Rocky calls into her ears.

"Radio check." Y/n calls back before he tells her all the tyre choices of the other drivers.

"Formation lap. Then let's go racing."

"Thank you, Rocky."

The formation lap feels as if it goes in the blink of an eye and she's back on the grid, waiting for everyone to finish getting into their grid slots.

"Everyone on grid." Rocky states making her get the ready, watching the lights.

Lights out and while she tries not to dwell on it, her start was as good as she felt it could've been. Now she just needs to stay out of trouble.

Primarily away from anyone who wants to use their teammate as a means of smashing into her.

Driving around Bahrain and pushing, listening to every single thing Rocky says and making sure she speaks back. She doesn't want to know who is in front or who is behind unless they're a threat or an opportunity.

"Y/n is...storming. You'd really think she may be using some of that residue upset from Friday in today. She definitely wasn't afraid to tell people that she was unhappy with both Mercedes drivers and felt their penalties were deserved. Lewis even said she'd unapologetically told him and George both that she wasn't impressed and they had grovelling to do." Martin states making Crofty chuckle.

"I think they might be wise to grovel. She seems like someone you'd want to stay on the good side of." Crofty admits while Martin hums in agreement.

The race continues, and she keeps going not even thinking as she does everything she can to just...make progress. Clean pitstops help and she's just relieved that they have done what they needed to do.

"Last lap, bubs. You got this. Push and go for fast lap if you want, no risk." Rocky states and actually she's surprised to hear they're in the last lap. Has it really been that long?

She's sort of had tunnel vision, her mind had number out the idea of anything else but the track in front or behind her.

Y/n gets herself around the track pushing as hard as possible.

"P3! P3! Fastest lap. Driver of the day and a podium!" Rocky exclaims as she hears cheers in the background with her name being chanted.

"Holy shit. Holy shit. Fucking hell." Y/n exclaims laughing as she waves out the cockpit. "This is insane. Holy fuck. Max P1?"

"Max P1. Carlos P2. Behind you, Charles and Lando then Oscar."

"Oh my fuck-fuck! Rocky!"

"You just get back here bubs. I'll be waiting for you."

Y/n actually maybes goes a bit fast for her in lap. But when she pulls up knocking the P3 sigh. Max and Carlos are always there. She doesn't even properly get out before Max has rushes to her tosses her around in a hug before she is placed down, running to the team who are admittedly more excited for her than they were to see Max take the win.

"Now that is a beautiful sight. The celebrations of a drivers first podium, her first ever race a rookie. I think we've got a lot more to see from y/n and actually I'd say Max may need to worry that y/n's about to threat to him. It might be early to say this, but y/n might be his first teammate since Daniel who may pose a real challenge." Crofty states over the broadcast while they watch y/n get weighed, finally released from the clutches of her team.

Though almost every other driver appears moving to want to congratulate her.

"Good for both of them and he seems to love y/n already. They have really got a bond that we see between the best of teammates." Martin states since Max has had some great teammates but y/n could be the best of them.

Y/n and the boys get up tot he cool down room where Carlos also picks her up hugging her tightly and spinning her around.

"You are amazing, y/n." Carlos grins then placing her down. "We will give you the best podium."

Y/n laughs as Max begins yapping about some of the footage which is being shown.

Eventually they're out on the podium, y/n first, then Carlos and then Max.

Trophies are present and Max gets his medal and that's when it dawns on y/n that Max seems to be about to dump his whole bottle on her.

"No!" Y/n laughs only just managing to not drop her bottle as she tries to run around Max and use Carlos as a human shield which almost works.

If Carlos didn't tip his entire bottle over his head behind him to perfectly pour onto her.

"Ahhh, no! Carlos, you traitor." Y/n squeals jumping back leaving her in the line of fire from Max who showers her in champagne.

"Enjoy it!" Max exclaims making her grin but she returns the gesture as Carlos sprays the champagne onto Max then turns finishing spraying what little is left onto y/n as she showers him too.

"Alright. Alright. We need to get off." Y/n laughs moving to the podium and picking up her trophy as she poses with the boys. "God, I think you've blinded me. My eyes sting."

"We watched y/n take a rookie, maiden podium and Red Bull have not stopped their cheering. After the podium and debrief, they did their team photo. Of course and she tried to use Max as a human shield to not be soaked to the skin in Red Bull. That failed in the same way that her podium shielding using Carlos failed. I think last time I saw her, she was trudging very carefully through the paddock looking quite sticky." Ted chuckles as he does his notebook post-race.

"You talking about me?" Y/n exclaims with a smile, appearing cleaned thanks to a quick shower in her drivers room.

Max is walking alongside her with Wyatt and Rupert walking with both the drivers.

"I am. Any very quick comments?" Ted smiles as she nears him.

"Uhh...Red Bull is very hard to wash out your hair. I don't recommend having it poured over your head in gallons." Y/n laughs then fist-bumping Ted. "You have a good night, Ted."

"You have a very good night. I know there's whispers of celebrations for both of you. Enjoy that guys."

"We will!"

Max laughs shaking his head at his teammate who grins walking alongside him.

"Next podium, I am terrorising you with champagne by the way and since you didn't protect me. I'm tackling you when the Red Bull comes out to be sprayed everywhere."

"You shouldn't have told me. I'll just use you as the human shield." Max grins while she nudges him and shakes her head.

Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03 @harrysdimple05 @mellowarcadefun @cixrosie @scopeiguess @racingheartsposts @c-losur3

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mondaymelon · 4 months

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— 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ! ₊˚ෆ | albedo, xiao, childe x gn!reader

— cw: reader thinks theyre in a one sided love, accidental confessions + d r u g s, ig? do love potions count as that. these potions dont create fake feelings, they just amplify the affections he already has for you !! fluffy :)

[ The very man you've been longing for has finally fallen in love with you !? Ah, no... Instead, does it have to do with this mysterious pink elixir they've drunk? ]

"Oh? This shade..."

ALBEDO's eyes glitter with the glass' reflections, holding the test tube up against the light. The pink fluid within sloshes inside its confinements, shimmering in the sun's rays. "Strange." With his free hand, he whips out his pencil and pad, busy writing down notes in small handwriting, evenly spaced and well lined. "This formula should've been for a health recovery potion, which is red... How come the color is so light?"

"'Bedo, I'm here." Your voice rang into the previously quiet laboratory as you fling the door open, the invading wind carrying flakes of snow along with it. The blonde's eyes narrows at the sight of the inconvenience, dipping his head in silent greeting as he walks over and closes the door behind you. "What are you doing holed up here today too?"

"More work matters." He's about to close his mouth, already moved on from the brief conversation, but instead perks up, eyes rounding the slightest. "Ah, do you think you could offer some assistance?"

"Assistance?" You trail after him, eyeing the various ongoing experiments on the other tables, up until your eyes land on the practically glowing liquid that emanates a honey-like smell. "What, do you want me to drink that?"

Albedo immediately shakes his head. "No, there's no need to endanger your safety like that. I'll do the honors of consuming it, but I'd appreciate it if you could take some observations and write them down. Is that alright with you?"

A part of you was almost surprised at the relationship "progression", if one could even call it that. You had had your eye on Albedo ever since you had managed to get yourself lost in these mountains, only to stumble upon his lab at your wits end, helplessly shivering and lashes decorated with frost. He had nursed you back to health, and then provided directions back to Mondstadt... Since then, you had made it a habit to frequently visit the quiet male, whether providing just some company or bringing a snack or two, you just wanted a way to show your thanks! Somehow, somewhere along the line, you had developed feelings for him, feelings that you were rather sure he'd never be able to reciprocate.

"That... That seems doable enough?" You blink, hesitantly grabbing the pen that lay on the desk. "Just... ah- you should worry for your own health too, y'know?"

Albedo glances at you, taking the tub in his hands. "I'll be fine." And down it goes. Silence, at first, then his legs sway beneath him. You let out a noise of surprise, instantly moving to offer support, but the male manages to steady himself on the table, instead holding his hand out to keep you away. "Aha... oh, so it was that kind of concoction..."

Sensing the exasperation in his tone only alights more concern. "Is it dangerous? H-Hey, let's lie you down somewhere, and then we can-"

Your worries are effectively silenced as his... lips fall upon yours, jewel-like irises that shone with almost unnoticeable hearts, both his hands cupping your face in a touch so delicate you could've sworn it was never there, and the warmth from his pale, burning skin..

And just like that, you heard the usually level-headed and composed alchemist cursed under his breath for the first time. "No, it wasn't supposed to be like this-"

A shy flush left kisses on his features. He had always waited for the right time for his moves, albeit unnatural ones. It was far easy acting with equations and predicted outcomes, but you... you were something so natural, you made him thoughtless so effortlessly. It took him every effort to allow his usual expression to remain on his face, to not voice his feelings. Not now, he'd chide to himself. I'm not ready.

"...A-Albedo, what..." Stupid as you may be, it'd be impossible not to realize it, especially with the way his usually cool skin flamed with heat. "...A fucking love potion?" You touched a finger to your lips, still stunned.

"I'm sorry." He's ashamed, for being unable to control himself under the potion's influence. "The antidote, it's on the table." Dutifully, you hand it to him, your fingers brushing against his in the process.

"Ah-"

"I like you."

It hurts, to hear him say those words that you've been wishing to hear for far longer than you care to admit. "...What? 'Bedo, c'mon, drink the antidote, and then we can hold a proper conversation. You're not in your right mind right now."

"I've already drunken it." Was the moment now? The empty glass falls from his hand and onto the table, rolling to a still. "I like you."

"...What? No, is the cure not working or something, what is-" It couldn't be, but his turquoise-eyed gaze was clear.

"Must I state it once more? I love you." ₊˚ෆ

"Just what is it you have you brought me?"

XIAO's brows furrow with discontentment... or rather, disinterest. You were a peculiar mortal, it was an easy enough fact to gather from his encounters with you. And while he didn't find himself particularly delighted when you appeared, calling it annoyed would be a bit of a stretch. It's a flicker of a thousand emotions at once across the mask of his expression, all but one of them displayed for your viewing - indifference.

His golden, cat-like pupils stare down the small vial you've procured and gifted him, narrowing with suspicion in your growing silence. He prompts once more, "This is?"

"Hmm, think of it as a gift?" You chuckle sheepishly, recalling the rather shady conversation you had days prior, in a small store hidden away in the very edge of the city market.

"Dearest customer, perhaps you'd like this product? It's very popular amongst the young city goers these days, and I have a feeling you've been looking for something similar."

...A scam? "Sorry, I'm not interested-"

"It works. You're in love with someone, right?"

"How did you-"

"There's this distant look in your eyes. I see it all the time. Now, if you'll just purchase this..."

And just like that, you had been probably swindled into buying a likely useless product off of his hands. At the very least, you could use it to hold a brief conversation with the aloof adeptus who often decided to not turn up at all. "It's... a thank you gift for protecting Liyue all these years...?" In the corner of your vision that greatly encompasses a wonderful view of your shoes, you spot the unwavering features of Xiao's face give the slightest waver.

"There's no need to thank me." He says it all apathetically, yet accepts the gift. "You still have yet to answer my question, however. Of what nature is this object?"

"Ah... well, you see, I don't exactly know either? You could call it a local specialty, of sorts..." You weren't exactly lying, were you? You didn't know what it was, although by it's heart-shaped container and pinkish color you could likely wager a guess or two... but it was better to remain ignorant. At least that way, you wouldn't be to blame if anything unfortunate occurred.

Oh, but was such a term the correct word to describe such a happening? Had it all gone "wrong" the moment you bought the suspicious thing, or was it when you handed it to him, watching him drain the container of its fluid? Either way, something found its way inside your heart the moment the adeptus set the glass down with enough force to hear the sound of its surface fracturing into thousands of spiderwebbed lines.

"The glass... Xiao, are you alright?" You stepped forward worryingly upon seeing the adeptus clutch his forehead with his hand, eyes fluttered shut. Don't tell me... holy shit, was it the real deal? I'm so fucked.

"You..." His voice was deep, husky, almost with a raspy note as his eyes opened to reveal his sharp amber eyes. "What did you just give me? What are you doing to... me?" He grew silent as his slight stumbling paused, a hand gripping the balcony railing for tentative support.

When you met his gaze again, his eyes shone. Gold, no longer, but rosy pink, adorned with bright pupils cut in the shape of hearts. His breaths left small clouds of white that escaped his mouth with every quickened exhale against the cold air, yet despite the chill, his cheeks and ears were dusted with an almost feverish red.

You shake your head, wanting to step closer but growing afraid. Fuck, just how were you supposed to explain yourself? After pursuing your pathetic, so-called "advances" towards the man in hopes of one day achieving a level of intimacy, in longing of hearing those three, beautiful words part from his open lips... Ah, but you've screwed it all up now, haven't you? You might as well have fed him poison. "N-No, I didn't think it would actually-"

"I love you."

It's quiet.

Or perhaps its thunderous. That is, the sound of your heart in your ears, pounding without any heed of the absolute mess of emotions coursing through your veins at the moment. This wasn't right. He didn't love you, not in the way you loved him. An illusion, this was, a painful ploy that would do nothing to sway his heart.

"...No, no." You shake your head, taking a step back, too ashamed to meet his eye. "Xiao, you don't. It's... I'm sorry.""

"No, I do love you."

What? His eyes, his astonishingly gilded eyes, they've rid themselves of their hearts, yet the words still remain in his mouth.

You blink your eyes once, and then once more. "This…?"

"Adepti are naturally immune to such a thing. To fall for such petty tricks would be foolish to the highest degree. Despite this..." Xiao sidled closer, a hand covering the lower half of his face. "Does that mean... you wanted me to love you?"

Would he leave you if he knew?If such a thing could be possible. Unbeknownst to you, the male held some sentiments of the same regard, but how to address them lay far beyond his area of expertise. "And if I did, Xiao? What then?"

"I'm not well versed in the ways of mortals, but surely, I'd do this."

...His lips were soft. ₊˚ෆ

"Ahaha, so it's a gift for me?"

CHILDE grinned with delight, seizing the bottle from your hands into his. "Pink," was his only comment as his eyes swept over the vial. "Is this... valberry juice, or something?"

"Not quite~" You smiled mischievously, aware that no matter how many questions he asked, you'd be partaking in none of them. "Besides, it's more fun if it's a surprise, no?"

"Mmm, but the cute shape of it is making me pretty curious..." Childe's voice trailed off as he ran a single gloved finger across its glass expanse, clearly enjoying himself. "Well, I suppose there's nothing else to do but 'find out', yeah?"

Hmm, would it be a pleasant discovery? You toyed with the idea and he drunk the substance. The sleazy-looking merchant that had sold you such a product had claimed to be a "magician" of some sorts. A bold claim, since you had traveled to the waters of Fontaine in occasions prior and witnessed a true magician in the act - although that was irrelevant. Either way, you had let your curiosity get the better of you, and impulsively bought it just to own the thing. It didn't require a large chunk of your wallet, nor was it completely useless... that is, as long as it was potent. If it wasn't, then you could laugh it off, saying it was something you concocted for the fun of it and he was your test subject, but on the offchance it did...

A guilty expression flitted across your face. You had held feelings for the harbinger since he had been stationed at the harbor, at first only courageous enough to gaze at him from afar, admiring the way his lips curved upwards in a smile and the way the sun's rays reflected across his deep eyes that resembled troubled waters. Somehow, one lucky incident had led to another, and now the two of you were considered friends, yet you longed for something more...

Perhaps this "potion" would help you settle things. It was time you escaped from your daydreams and delusions, time to put your heart to rest. The two of you were friends, and you should be content with just that-

"Damn, this shit is strong." Childe let out a low whistle, and you almost felt inclined to applaud him. "Sweet, too. Not bad."

"...Ha?" You shook yourself out of your stupor. Fuck, who gave him the right to look so pretty doing menial things? "So... You like it?"

"You could say that, but I think I like you more~"

"I'm... sorry?" May the archons remind you to report that man to the Millelith later for witchcraft! "Are you drunk?"

"You're a sly thing, aren't you?" Since when had he gotten so close? "Acting all oblivious now that I've caught you in your act, did you really think I wouldn't notice?" He held the now empty, heart-shaped bottle between his pointer finger and thumb, chuckling. "These things are notorious among the underworld, you know, although I certainly didn't expect this dearest friend of mine to bring such a thing to me... what a riot!"

"Ah..." All the words that you could've said in the moment seemed to fly out of your head, and now you only gaped at him, mouth ajar. "Uhm..."

"You're lucky I've been trained to be immune from 'poisons', if you could call it that. That way, I can say that it wasn't a lie."

"...A lie?"

"I like you."

"Wait, but I- I just did that to you, and you're-"

"What, that? It's funny, if anything... besides, it just shows that you want me as much as I want you, no?" ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) sigh i got burnt out near the end so childe's part is about 300 words short im sorry ginger lovers... </3 happy new year eve (timezones are so weird lmao) !! ill be posting a fic tomorrow for that too most likely sooooo watch out for that ig? it would be ever so cool if you followed me . p le a. se. im like 10 away from a big silly number and id actually give you eternal kisses if you do

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader, @fiannee, @aether-darling

reblogs appreciated !!

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thedgeoftheuniverse · 1 year

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These Burdens We Carry.

Joel Miller x f!reader

word count: 4.9k

WARNINGS: swearing, typical tlou violence, way too much angst, plot that actually isn't plot i just like using words, poorly written light smut (MINORS DNI) oral, fem receiving, sprinkle of a praise kink, multiple orgasms. (please let me know if i forgot any!)

a/n: this is my first time writing any semblance of smut so i went very very light, pls be kind <3

gif is not mine!!!!!!

near death experiences have a way of bringing people together.

you're in need of a release and joel is happy to provide it for you.

Twenty-one years.

Twenty-one years and still, try as you might, you never got used to the smell—the stench—of death. The putrid odor of decay, one that could only come from the extinguishing of a life, no matter how rotten the soul was. Though you tried to convince yourself otherwise, tried to tell yourself that you had done this more times than you could count—how did it ever get to this?—and that at this point, there should've been nothing left in the world to rattle you, the stench always managed to find a way to offend your nasal passages and twist your gut in the cruelest of ways. The smell was the worst part about killing.

You would never be like him.

Maybe that was a good thing.

Then again, he seemed to carry so little weight on his shoulders, or maybe he had carried it for so long that the muscles in his shoulders had strengthened to accommodate the pressure—the weight of the world became a small child riding on his back, holding itself up with its legs locked around his waist, never growing in height or weight. It was a cruel metaphor, however, it made sense when looking at him and the way the muscles in his back rippled underneath his denim shirt and his arms seemed almost too big for the sleeves. A lifetime of carrying the weight of a galaxy and all of her stars could do that to a man.

There was something—everything—about Joel Miller that you admired. The way his graying hair gently curled at the ends, signaling it was time for a haircut; the way his eyes told you everything his mouth couldn't say aloud; the way his rough, calloused hands held you when the night was so dark and the universe caved in on your chest, leaving you completely breathless. His emotions were long shut off—carrying the weight of the galaxy does that to a man—but there were small glimpses into the man he used to be that he saved just for you. It was enough.

Most of the time.

But, that day, you needed the Joel Miller that existed twenty-one years ago, and while he was slowly beginning to find a semblance of that man again, the real Joel Miller died a long time ago. What he had found was an echo of a distant memory that had been long snuffed out, table scraps that would be fed to the dogs. You feared it wouldn't be enough for that day. You needed more, and you didn’t know if he managed to find it. If he had, he did not make a habit of showing it to you. Maybe that was a piece he saved only for himself.

That day, the horrid scent of death meant so much more. It was supposed to be a walk in the woods. You weren't supposed to run into anyone. There shouldn't have been anyone out there, and he shouldn't have been following you, and you should've paid more attention. So many variables. So many things you wish you had done differently. It was too late when you realized your mistake, when you realized that the leaves crunching and twigs snapping behind you were something to be afraid of. You had almost forgotten what fear felt like—a long-forgotten emotion buried so deeply in the recesses of your brain. You discovered the hard way that fear was the most dangerous emotion a human could feel, far more dangerous than love could ever hope to be. Fear makes you stupid, reckless, and impulsive. Love elicited the same reaction, but at least you were fighting for something rather than against something. It's so much harder to fight for yourself.

When his fist met your temple, you saw black. The world spun around your head, and a sea of stars danced in the early morning sky. You were grabbed by hands. You weren't sure where, but you were definitely thrown to the ground. You felt a small stream of blood tickle the side of your face—how did it ever get to this?—as it ran down from a cut left behind on your brow bone. You still couldn't see. Your ears rang, your senses were failing you, and he was sitting on top of your torso.

"Well, are you a pretty thing?"

Nothing about what you did to that man was pretty.

You couldn't remember how it happened. You remembered grabbing the rock; you remembered how heavy it sat in your hand as your wrist struggled to hold the weight. Everything went red after that. Maybe it was his blood obscuring your vision, or maybe it was a twisted sense of love, of duty, of "I have to get back to him" that blinded you.

Joel would never forgive you if you didn't come back home.

When you came to, the man was unrecognizable. You gained the advantage, managed to climb on top of him. His brain and fragments of his were scattered across the rock, and his head was caved in. The Infected would have been kinder to him. He didn't deserve that kindness. Your hands were shaking and stained crimson, as was your face. It felt like you were dying. Your chest was caving in—how did it ever get to this?—the trees surrounding you were uprooting, and the sky was falling down in a thousand pieces all around you. Killing up close was never a strong point for you. The smell, the blood, the emptiness of their eyes—he had no eyes left. You weren't sure how long you stayed on top of the man, but rigor mortis took hold of his lifeless body before you found the will to move.

When did you become so ruthless?

You had no control as your feet carried you. Left, right, left, right, until you found yourself by a stream. You didn't notice Joel on the other side, but he noticed you. He always saw you. You always found your way back to him.

He often went to that stream. It was a short walk from Jackson, one well worth the peace of mind that he found in the way the water flowed. He enjoyed stacking the rocks that lived beneath the water, which were eroded by years of ripples, leaving them smooth and slick to the touch, and the cool water running over his rough hands. It was a rare thing for Joel to find serenity when you weren't around. The stream reminded him of you. He searched for you in everything around him. He often found you in water, in the way the wind blew through tree branches, in the way deer ran from the snap of a twig, in the way the sun rose in hues of pink and orange. He found you in every beautiful thing the world had left to offer.

But not that day.

That day, Joel found you in cruelty. He found you in blood-splattered clothing, with hands that would be stained with a tint of red, matted hair, a cut on your eyebrow, and skin embedded under your fingernails. He had never seen you in such a state. Your eyes were empty, stuck on the stream that separated the two of you. There was a dead salamander, held in place underneath the current by weathered rocks. You found death everywhere you went. There was no escape, no hiding spot. Sometimes, you thought it sought you out, damning you to an eternity of that fucking smell as a means of atonement for your sins.

Joel called your name across the small distance of the water. He didn't know his voice could be so gentle. "What happened to you?"

You didn't hear him. He stepped through the water, giving no care to the wetness seeping into his shoes, and spoke your name once more.

"Let me look at you." He was nearly an arm’s length away from you before you finally picked up on his presence.

"Stay away." You whispered, your throat ached. You couldn't remember screaming. "Don't come near me."

"What happened?" He stopped just a few inches in front of you, close enough for you to see the wrinkles in his forehead and the crows feet that decorated the corner of his eyes, close enough to reach out and touch him. Your hands stayed by your sides, not trusting that he was there, that your fingers wouldn’t pass through the muscles of his chest. You couldn’t let him vanish into thin air.

"I don't know." It was Joel’s turn to be scared. He took in the obvious context clues of your appearance, but it still told him so little. Was it your blood or someone else's? Was it Infected or a human? Why were you so shaken? Why did you want him to stay away? You looked as though the combination of the gentle spring breeze and his breath fanning out in front of you would knock you to the ground.

It did. He was right there to catch you.

He was always there.

"I need you to talk to me." He didn't know how to do this anymore. He had been trying to relearn the gentleness he once possessed so many years ago, the kind he used to rock his daughter to sleep when she was a baby. He was slowly getting there but he feared what he had to offer wouldn't be enough. Not when seeing you like this scared him more than any horror the world could conjure up. He thinks seeing you like this scared him more than you dying. He knew how to handle death, how to exact his revenge in the cruelest, most damnable of ways. He knew how to rip men into pieces, to make them regret ever drawing breath; he knew how to put fear into the heart of anyone who dared to cross his path or take what was his.

Joel knew violence. Bloodshed.

He didn't know how to make you stop shaking.

"I- I–" Your voice failed you.

"Let's just clean you up, okay?" All you could do was nod. He gently lowered you to the ground, not trusting your legs enough to allow you to attempt to stand again. He couldn't do anything about the soiled state of your clothes at that moment, but he could wash your hands and face for you. The water was just slightly too cold, but you were sweating and it would be good for you to cool down. He didn't care that it made the tips of his fingers numb. He could only care about you, the hollowness echoing in your chest, and the crazed look in your eyes.

Blood mixed with water, flowing over the dead salamander, still trapped under the rock and it felt like some kind of sick metaphor that you didn't have the capacity to decipher.

He used a rag stashed away in his pack to clean the evidence off of you. Most of the time, when you saw him use his hands, it wasn't pure or loving. Not like this. He was getting better, but he wasn't fully there. But, Joel found it in himself to love you with his hands that day. He showed you in the way the rag barely made contact with your skin, not wanting to leave behind any more redness than the blood already would; in the way that he eroded the edges of the stone in his eyes and placed his lips on your forehead. It wasn’t a kiss, just a moment of contact, a silent ‘I love you,’ in the only way he knew to show you in the moment.

One day, he would tell you. One day, he would tell you how you made it easier to stay alive. He would tell you how, in the past, he had found people he was willing to die for, but never someone that made him want to live; someone that gave him purpose for fighting every day; someone that made him feel as though the world wasn’t out to get him, like he was more than a weapon of destruction. You looked at him like he was still a human being; like he never knew bloodshed; like he held galaxies in his eyes; like he was the galaxy, and you were a newly formed star, looking for a place to call home.

Like he was still Joel Miller.

You made him feel like he still existed.

But he tucked his feelings inside of his pocket, along with the rag that he used to clean you. He still didn’t know whose blood stained the once-white cloth, but he could confidently say that none of it was yours, save for the cruor on your forehead. You had finally calmed down. Your heart still hammered in your chest, and your hands slightly trembled, but the gentle caress of Joel’s fingers against your skin instilled in you a degree of tranquility that you once thought only death could possess.

His name softly fell from your lips, and for the first time during your encounter, your eyes met his. "I need you to tell me what happened to you."

Joel wasn’t satisfied with your retelling of the events, but details changed nothing, and you loved the gray-haired man too much to distress him more than you already had. He knew you were not giving him the full picture—I was out walking, and someone came up from behind me. I took care of it. I just don’t like doing it up close… smells like shit— but he chose not to pry. He knew you would tell him when—if—you were ready. All that truly mattered was getting you home safely.

He walked closely beside you, so close that his body would slightly brush against yours as the uneven terrain caused both of you to slightly stumble and sway. Every time it happened, your skin caught fire. Joel did his best to ignore the sparks it sent through his chest in favor of paying enough attention to the path ahead for the both of you. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you to look out for yourself—he trusted you with your life, which was considerably more important to him than his own—and he didn’t want you to have to stress yourself more than you already had. All he cared about was keeping you safe and as unperturbed as possible.

He took you to his and Ellie’s home.

You had practically lived there in the recent months, preferring to spend your free time with the grumpy older man—he was never grumpy towards you—and the young girl that had found a way to imbed herself within the walls he had spent the last twenty years fortifying. Articles of your clothing had found their way into his dresser without him ever noticing until he had to dedicate an entire drawer to you, not dissimilar to how the smallest pieces of you had slipped past his walls and attached to his heart. You carved statues out of the stone, creating an entire museum in his soul in your likeness; by the time he noticed, he had already spent every day marveling at the sculptures.

Sometimes, it scared him.

In fact, he vehemently tried to shut you out; he had a track record of failing to protect the ones he loved, and he already had Ellie to look after. If he lost both of you, it would be the end of him. There would be no coming back, and maybe if he acted like he didn’t care, he would one day believe it. The grief of Sarah and Tess haunted him, the burden being too much to bear some days. There is only so much loss, so much suffering that a heart can carry and he met his limit years ago—carrying the weight of a galaxy and all of her stars could do that to a man—and the more people he cared about, the more likely loss became. He never intended to let you in. Then again, he never intended to let Ellie in, but it was different with you. Ellie reminded him of what it was like to be a father, showed him that love is synonymous with more than pain and regret, but he still felt a degree of emptiness in his chest, a hollowness that he had long accepted would live inside of him until the day he died. She reminded him of hope, but there was something still missing. A missing puzzle piece that never actually came in the box, doomed to a lifetime of incompletion.

But you came along—your smile, your laughter, your witty remarks, the way you made him remember what life was and should have been, the way you took the galaxy off of his shoulders and put the sun in his ribcage. You meticulously handmade the missing piece of that puzzle over painstaking months. He had taken matters into his own hands many times and snapped it in half, but you never relented. You carved it out of a thin piece of wood, mixed the paint, and applied it with a brush that you crafted from a stick and horsetail, over and over again until he had no choice but to snap in the once-lost piece and frame it on his wall. You had given him everything he knew he was missing but didn’t know how to find, and damn sure did not know how to say.

The least he could do was take care of you, give you one of his t-shirts because you always said you loved the smell—he would never be able to understand why but the least he could do was oblige, and take care of you in the way you needed him to.

At least, that’s what he told himself when you climbed in his lap and peppered barely-there kisses down his jawline and neck. It’s what he told himself when your lips so gently met his, when your teeth bit his bottom lip and your tongue soothed the sting that was left behind. He wasn’t sure why it happened; maybe it was because you could’ve died and life had become too short to waste time pretending that you didn’t love Joel Miller with every fiber of your being, that he wasn’t the air you breathed or the blood pumping through your veins or the sun shining through your bedroom window in the morning. Maybe he reciprocated because you almost died, you almost broke your promise to him and the thought of you leaving his world without you ever knowing the way you breathed life back into his wretched body pained him far worse than any wound he had ever suffered.

"I worry when you go out there by yourself. You never know."

"You know I’ll always come back to you, Joel."

"You can’t be sure of that."

"I prom–"

"You can’t promise that."

"Yes, I can. I just did. You know I don’t break my promises."

It all came to a head on that couch. All of the stolen glances; the evenings spent lying in bed together, reminiscing on a life that no longer existed and picturing one that had yet to come to fruition; the accidental touches that were never truly accidents; the way that the two of you, together, were one of the last pure things left in the world, and you had somehow managed to come together in the midst of unspeakable horror to alleviate the neverending loneliness that crushed your souls for the last twenty years.

You brought Joel Miller back to life, lifted the child-sized grief riding on his shoulders, and bore the weight with him.

So, the least Joel could do was take care of you. He was a man of action, and you needed to forget that the world existed outside of the four walls and roof of his home; you needed a release, and he was happy to provide it for you. So, maybe that was why he reciprocated, why he softly grabbed your chin with his calloused hands and tilted it up so that he had free access to your neck. Delicate whimpers escaped from your kiss-swollen lips as he nipped at the juncture of your jawline and neck, leaving behind the faintest traces of purple that you would surely chastise him for in the morning. He played you like one of his guitars, and it was the sweetest melody to ever grace his ears.

You whined—a desperate sound he didn’t know your vocal chords possessed the ability to create—when he pulled your body off of his lap and sat you beside him on the couch. "What’re you doing?" You questioned him as he rose from the couch. For a moment, you feared that you had overstepped, that you had misread his affections and he thought of you in the same way he did Ellie. It crushed you, but only for a moment, because that was all the time it took for him to get on his knees in front of you, his large hands spreading your legs apart so that he could nestle in between them. The position sent discomfort through his persistently aching knees, but he didn’t have the willpower to care. Not when your eyes were practically begging him to continue, and your hands cupped his jaw and your thumb rubbed in a circular motion on his chin, grazing over his bottom lip when the pattern widened slightly.

"Let me take care of you, darlin’. Just relax for me." You thought that you were on fire when his arm brushed against yours in the woods, but that paled in comparison to the inferno raging inside of your stomach when Joel began unbuttoning your jeans. He was so gentle that if you closed your eyes, it was almost as though he wasn't there to begin with, but you couldn't tear your gaze away from him. Why would you, when he stared at you with such adoration, his hair already a mess, his pupils dilated despite the light shining in through the windows, on his knees for you?

Joel Miller didn’t have a submissive bone in his body, but he still bent the knee to you as though you were royalty, touched you like you were the only woman to exist, and you wanted to watch every second of it.

"This isn’t real." You whispered. He gripped your thigh, almost to the point of pain. You didn’t wake up.

"Do you want it to be?"

"God, yes."

You quickly learned that Joel liked to take his time. He was never a patient man, but with you? With you, he would wait until the end of infinity, until time ceased to pass and the seasons no longer existed. It felt as though it was exactly what he was waiting for as he left open-mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs, never quite reaching where you so desperately needed him. The longer he drew it out, the closer you came to believing that you had died in the woods and were mistakenly sent to heaven. His kisses were hot coals peppering your legs.

"Joel, stop tea—" He had already read your mind. He had a tendency to do so; some days, you thought he could truly see inside of you, could hear the thoughts bouncing around your brain. That couldn’t have been true. If he did, he would have known how badly you wanted him, just like he was in that moment months ago.

His deft fingers moved aside the cotton of your panties—had it been twenty years ago, you would have picked the silkiest of fabrics, tempted him into ripping them off of you, but undergarments were hard to come by and they were one of the few pairs you owned, so he took special care not to stretch or rip the fabric. His tongue licked a thick stripe up your center, grazing over a bundle of nerves that sent your body jolting, eliciting a chuckle from the man below you. It infuriated you that, despite being below you, he was still in complete and utter control of you. He clouded every inch of your senses, left you a complete mess above him and he had the audacity to laugh.

Your hands flew to his messy, salt-and-pepper hair as he began focusing on that bundle. You had never felt so alive. His tongue was hot, reaching all of the right places, and it left you an absolute mess. Joel had never seen you so desperate; he had never seen you beg, and he never thought he would, but now he was addicted. He thought he could spend the rest of his life between your legs and still never be satisfied.

It did not take long for that familiar knot to begin tightening in your stomach. "I— fuck— Joel." Words were completely lost on you, your brain was too overwhelmed with his tongue working your clit. Maybe it was because it had been the better part of five years since you had truly been with someone, or maybe it was because Joel knew exactly what he was doing and all of the right places to touch, or maybe it was both, but your orgasm hit you hard. Your back arched as your body was engulfed in white-hot pleasure, and your eyes screwed shut as you cried out into the empty room. Your fingers pulled tighter on Joel’s hair, and he moaned. It was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard.

You thought he would be done after that, that he would realize what he had done and what it meant and would run away with his tail between his legs. It seemed that only you had the power to truly scare Joel Miller. You tried to pull his head back up to you, but he wanted no part of it, finding shelter between your legs. His rough hands rubbed your thighs up and down and up and down while he went back to peppering kisses on the supple skin, whispering soft praises to you.

You did so good.

Such a good girl.

Sound so beautiful.

You were so caught up in the praise, in the way it warmed your body almost as much as your orgasm had that you missed his fingers trailing higher and higher until two of them were circling your clit and your body felt like a live wire. "Give me one more," he pleaded, and how could you say no to him?

Your second orgasm hit you harder and faster than the first. Joel applied ruthless stimulation to such a devastating spot that no one had hit so perfectly before, and it had you seeing stars behind closed eyes. When he added his tongue back, you were a goner, reduced to incoherent babbling, the only discernible words being, "Joel," and, "Please don’t stop." He was happy to oblige.

He strained painfully in the denim of his jeans, desperately wanting you underneath him; he wanted to look in your eyes as you came apart for him, and he wanted to feel you tighten around him and beg him for more, but he knew this wasn’t about him. It was about you, the way you desperately needed someone to hold onto; you needed a release, and he was happy to be nothing more than that for the time being.

When you came down, Joel whispered more praises to you, this time into the crook of your neck as he trailed more kisses across the skin. You could not remember the last time you were on the receiving end of something so tender, but you wanted it to last a lifetime. It made you feel human in a world that was going extinct; you felt alive again, and you weren't convinced it was only the orgasm that had done it. You knew it was Joel. You knew it was the way he kissed you, ran his hands over your body, and whispered those sweet nothings into your ear that had you remembering you were still human after everything you had done.

"Joel," you said, your eyes closed and your head tilted back as he rested in your neck.You had a million things you wanted to ask him. The words were stuck in your throat, and you choked on them. You knew he could see it.

"Just relax for me," He said it once again, but this time it made you melt. He lifted his head off of you, and pushed yours into his shoulder. "Don’t worry about me."

"You know I’m going to."

"Yeah," he almost laughed, "I know." You fell asleep with him petting your hair and his arm wrapped around your shoulders. The position was uncomfortable, and you would surely wake with stiffness in your neck, but you would have rather died than be without him and the scent of dirt and musk that flooded your senses. He was everything that you needed in that moment, and you knew some things were better left unsaid; the silence was an easier burden to bear than going a lifetime knowing with absolute certainty that he didn’t feel the same. Would he feel the same?

You thought your question was answered when you heard him humming to you as your mind became clouded with sleep.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #tlou show #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic

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cursedkeyboard · 4 months

Text

Funnily enough, I've never been too big of a Jason Todd fan. Not because I don't like him, he's a great character, but because DC fails over and over again to give him justice and treat him right.

The number of times alone this boy has been beaten by his adoptive father, betrayed, and forgotten are far too many, far too much.

And the constant portrayal of Jason as this volatile, violent, mindless man is tiresome, lazy in all senses of the word and overdone. I understand that Jason was unstable after he left the pit, I mean, who wouldn't? The trauma of his death alone could've sent anyone crazy, but then to experience everything else afterwards, including having to come to terms that Bruce not only did not kill his murder but also replaced him, leaving Jason to grieve what was once his and what he should've gotten, of course he'd be less than okay.

Again, I'm not the biggest Jason Todd fan but I do wish more people would see just how much good Jason has in his heart, how kind and gentle he can be once his walls are down, when he's no longer constantly analyzing your actions and wondering why would you bother talking to him, getting closer to him.

In my opinion, a man who is so gentle with children, who constantly gives second, third, and fourth chances to people who don't deserve it, who despite it all still wants to make a change and protect the city that failed him, couldn't possibly be anything but the most caring partner. Not just partner, no, also brother and friend.

We all know what he did to Tim and Damian, there are reasons, such as his mental instability at the time and rage, and though those are not excuses, I believe Jason would still drop everything to go save his family. He might complain, he might brood, but family is something important to him even when just looking at them hurts him. He lost his loving mother, stepmother, far too early and it's not hard to imagine that even with all the pain and grief inside his torn heart, the little boy inside Jason still craves the warmth of a family.

Just look at the way he treats his friends, at the way he helps them through situations no one else would, how caring and attentive he is. Jason is gentle, sure, he is rough and mean and he's got blood on his hands, but Jason is made of love.

Jason was made to be loved.

So I think, whether platonic or romantically, Jason would treat you so well. He'd scold you for not wearing warm clothes during winter, "We're in Gotham, you fucking moron, you wanna freeze to death?", all while wrapping you with his jacket or scarf. He'd make sure you're eating at least something every day, and if not, he would immediately put you under his arm, maybe over his shoulder, and take you to the nearest food chain he could find, "I don't want to hear you complaining about headaches when all you had today was a cup of coffee and gum.".

Lord, he'd be torn between freaking out and being extremely annoyed that you got hurt, be it at work, a fight, or just out of clumsiness. But no matter what, his hands would always be so, so gentle when touching you. The tip of his fingers brushing under the injury, as light as a breeze, his other hand holding the back of your neck, or your bicep, perhaps even your hand just to make sure you're there, with him.

Jason would both hush you gently, "I know, sweetheart, we're almost done.", and also tease because he's a little shit at heart, "If you had a little more awareness than a ten year old this wouldn't have happened, idiot."

And physical touches? Oh, love, Jason is a sucker for intimacy.

I know for a fact he wouldn't be comfortable for a long time with anyone in his personal space due to the torture he went through. The trauma would make his skin crawl any time someone got too close or brushed past him, he'd hate it so much because it makes him weak but also because he can't let anyone try to hug him without feeling sick to his stomach.

And with you it's no different. It would take a long time, a lot of trust being built up, conflict and confessions, maybe he'd even open up to you with his head on your lap as you brushed his hair softly, a big, big step for him after years of not letting anyone close. He'd tell you about the Joker, about having hope in Bruce, about his biological mother. And he'd feel vulnerable like a child when you wipe his tears gently without a word.

Once he starts craving your touch, though, regardless if you two have a platonic or romantic relationship, Jason is putty in your hands. Forehead kisses when you part ways, cuddling on the couch while he reads and you're on your phone, thighs touching when sitting close, even a little bit of hand holding when he's stressed and needs to play with your fingers.

He's like a big cat that's constantly making his way onto your chest, stealing your breath and making biscuits on your skin, making sure you're giving him sufficient pats every day.

It's a little part of him that he's barely able to properly allow space for. There's still so much hurt in Jason, so much confusion and desperation, hatred and upset, that he'd probably still close off sometimes, try acting tough so you'd see how fucked up he is, how he's not truly worth of your love.

And yet.

And yet all it'd take for him to go soft and pliant in your hands would be a single touch, cupping his cheeks, brushing his skin softly with your thumbs, right under his pretty emerald eyes, making sure his gaze is on you and only you. Just like that, he'd slump his shoulders and bring you into his arms, breathing a sigh of relief and squeezing you close, your heartbeats synching.

He wouldn't remember when he started feeling safest in your arms but it'd feel like it was since forever. Like there was no one else but you.

Jason was made to be loved, though he is a little broken and a little tainted, lost like a child and hateful like a sinner, your love might just be his salvation, something he's greedy for, selfish for, even when he's so hesitant of somehow hurting you.

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x you #red hood x reader #gender neutral reader #my ode to jason todd because my best friend is obsessed with him

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wayfayrr · 4 months

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Hello! Congrats on 300 followers!! (your 300 follower event idea is so cute btw omg)

Could i request a soft mulled wine with candy canes to eat in please?

Here's your order - I hope everything is to your tastes <3

it's super fun to see how the same prompt can be done so differently for different characters!!! Wild especially is one of my favourites because he's just soooo - it's hard to put into words but I just love him so much

[Event masterlist]

“I don't think I've seen those plants before, my slate isn't recognising them either…”

“Must be something unique to legends Hyrule then, they must've just vanished before your time.”

He’s still focused on whatever is growing above us, although I could've sworn we were just standing under pines. Ones that are common in his home, is there something I’m missing here? What is he focusing on so intently? Is there somethin-

“You’re looking at the mistletoe? Does it really not exist in your hyrule… I guess that means the traditions doesn’t exist either then, does it?”

“Tradition?”

“So I’m right then? It doesn’t?”

Why does he seem a little ashamed by that, his ears have drooped and he doesn’t want to look at me. Is he that used to always knowing about plants or is it that he’s worried about having lost his memories about it.

“to be fair wild, I'm not entirely sure it exists in hyrule anyway. might just be something from my world.”

“what kind of tradition is it, do you miss it at all?”

“hmm, well it's mostly just fun… depends on who you're with really. Want me to show you what it is?”

he's perking up a bit now, still a little down but that should change in a moment seeing as he's nodding.

“You sure? you don't even know what it is and you wanna go through with it?”

“You’re not making it sound like a good thing… Twi isn’t going to lecture us for this is he?”

“No, no of course not. Not unless he’s got a secret crush on me anyway.”

“Wha-”

Before he had a chance to respond, I already had a hand on his collar pulling him toward me. If he wants to learn about the mistletoe then what could possibly be better than experience. I’ve been wanting to kiss him for a while now too, so it’s a perfect excuse. His lips are so soft, incredible considering how he lives the shrine must’ve had some permanent effects after it all. Kissing him is awkward to say the least, the mixture of him being caught so off guard and the fact he’s frozen solid leads to a very quick attempt at a quick peck on the lips.

Until it's over, and I've pulled away from him. It'd be a lie if I said I wasn't mildly disappointed by how little he reacted, maybe I was reading all the signs wrong and he simply didn't care for me like that. I should have given him more of a hint to what I was going to do, if he doesn't like me then it was simply cruel to force him to kiss me.

“I - sorry I didn't - I made you uncomfortable I should've told you what it was. I'm sorry link.”

“That’s the tradition then? Pressing your lips to someone elses?”

“Not quite - it’s to kiss whoever you’re standing under it with but I didn’t want to overwhelm you with...hu-!”

The disappointment must’ve shown on my face, or he just… did he just want to kiss me again? This time he’s the one taking the lead, holding my face so gently in his hands sliding his fingers slowly into my hair. The fact that he’s likely never kissed anyone makes it more clumsy, gently and softly he’s trying to find the best way to do it and I’m loving every second of it. Even despite it being the most uncertain kiss I’ve ever had… it’s taking my breath away simply how much care is going into it. Drawing a soft gasp from me too with how he’s biting faintly on my lips.

Everything has to come to an end eventually though, as he pulls away with a smirk and the cutest blush I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I’ll have to devote a lot more of my time to flustering him from now on, there’s no possible way that I could go without seeing that at least once more in my life. I would rather the shadow simply kill me than be condemned to that fate.

“That was -”

“Ishouldv’easkedI’msosor-”

“ - It was amazing link. Would you… if I asked would you do it again?” That seemed to be the final thing to fully overwhelm him, with his face going from being softly dusted with blush to being a scorching crimson while he’s trying to shy away in his own hair. If I didn’t think I could go without the one before, then I already know I’ll die if I don’t get to see it more often. It’s a shame he’s trying so hard to hide it, if only I could just…

“[Name]... What are you?”

“Oh! I um… I wasn’t thinking I just. I you look so cute and I just, you don’t need to hide yourself away from me link.”

Just a shaky breath and nuzzling his head on my hand in response. He can’t even look me in the eye.

“Does this mean that you like the tradition though?”

this is evolving into a proper taglist now, if you'd like to join feel free to ask! - @sketchyspook, @fanfic-fairy-fountain, @mushroomwoods, @glowyskull

#soft flustered wild? a favourite of mine #lu wild x reader #link x reader #botw link x reader #botw x reader #linked universe x reader #moss✦writes #candy✦canes #help I installed that animal crossing typing extension when I was writing and couldn't stop laughing

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skzooweemama · 6 months

Note

Hello!!! Omg I've recently been obsessing over your posts 😅 I love your writing style!

If you're not too busy, could you do a thing that's like skz's reactions to finding out you're ticklish?

It's totally fine if you don't want to, take care!! 💕

yes ofccccc!! i'm so glad you like my writing!

formal apologies to all my not ticklish stays- just pretend for this one :) <33

two posts in two days? who am i? guess i’m on a writing kick lol- unfortunately i do not think this will continue (but also i don’t want it to be another month before i post again so i’m gonna do my best)

anyway- hope y’all enjoy!! this was super fun to write! still experimenting w formatting too so stay tuned 😵‍💫

~~~

Bang Chan:

channie definitely figured it out quick

literally he is always touching you

we've been over this

of course he is a gentleman

his love language may be physical touch, but he had to make sure you're okay w that first!

waits until you begin to initiate affection more often before he gets clingy

but then he's kind of all over you :)

you invited him over to your place one night, and even though he had just been working for hours, he was just too excited to see you

he was super tired though, so you took it upon yourself to set up a cute movie date so the two of you could just chill out and cuddle

at first, channie was just happily cuddled up against your side, an arm lazily slug around you waist while you petted his hair

it was cute and sleepy and perfect

until he just had to go and mess it up

chan's musicality seemed to get the best of him as he began to drum the rhythm to one of their tracks out on your waist

your very ticklish waist

there was a noble and valiant effort to stop yourself from freaking out, but alas

you let out a squeal and suddenly chan perked up, his exhaustion completely gone

safe to say you got pinned to the couch and tickled within an inch of your life

praying for you babe, he is a true monster

Lee Know:

minho wasn't really on the hunt for your tickle spots tbh

honestly, it's not something he thinks about a lot

unless it's happening right in front of him or he's feeling mischievous and he can take it out on someone in his direct vicinity (ex. our maknae on top)

his interest has to be piqued first

that's why when he figured out that you're ticklish, it was literally in the most cliche way possible

that's right- you got stuck in your shirt

it was a cute top that was way too expensive, but you had splurged a bit because you wanted something nice to wear on night outs

unfortunately, it was also incredibly tight and hard to get on and off

especially for your tipsy post-date brain... you were struggling

that's how minho found you, with your top half off, arms trapped in the fabric pulled over your head

he scoffed at you, shaking his head and tutting that you should've asked for help

just like him to be condescending at a time like this smh

but he does help you, grasping at your fabric cage and yanking upwards

and it was so helpful, except for the fact that he just barely brushed your underarms

which made you squeal and pull away from him

which made him curious

minho helped you out of the top completely before he decided to explore what made you squeal like that

after that, though, he tackled you onto the bed and found every single tickle spot you had before he even thought about letting you go

and he's a meanie too... idk if you'll survive :)

Changbin:

changbin has definitely tried to tickle you before

he just never found the spot

yk how sometimes you'll see vids of idols "tickling" their member's forearms or like shoulder?

he did shit like that, fully expecting you to laugh

safe to say you did not

so he had mostly given up, content with the fact that you aren't ticklish

however

he did start to take you on gym dates

and on one of these gym dates he discovered just how wrong he was

you decided to try to do an unassisted chin up, which you had been building up to by using resistance bands each time you tried

changbin was standing close by for moral support (and also to catch you just in case)

you made sure to remember the proper technique and pulled yourself all the way up, chin just meeting the bar

changbin cheered when you dropped down, grasping your waist and kissing your cheek proudly

you felt so victorious! but when changbin's hand just brushed against the skin of your stomach from beneath your shirt, you froze and let out a squeak of surprise

despite my earlier comments, changbin is no dummy

you can be sure that later that night he decided to see just how sensitive you really were

you'll never have a moment of peace with him now ;))))

Hyunjin:

hyunjin is a poker

for some reason, those long fingers of his are just drawn to exposed skin

changbin is a frequent target, but tbh all of the members have fallen victim to his shenanigans at some point

and ofc, there's no special treatment, even if you're dating him

you will be poked, and it will tickle

your first mistake was wearing a new shirt that had those slits going diagonally down the front of the top

you hadn't even thought anything of it when you put it on that morning

i mean, it's a shirt and you were under the assumption that your boyfriend wasn't a weirdo

(you were wrong)

that night, hyunjin decided to help you make some dinner

and by "help" i mean he stood behind you with his hands around your waist and his chin on your shoulder while you cooked, talking your ear off about whatever came to his mind

he's annoying

anyway, eventually he got bored

you were too focused on the food! how could you ignore him?!

as he stewed in his boredom, his fingers found their way to the slits in the front of your shirt and brushed up against your warm skin

and then, he delivered one firm poke

right to your bellybutton

immediately, you let out a strained giggle and tried to move away from him, but unfortunately he had you trapped between the kitchen counter and his body

before you could even devise another plan of escape, his hands slipped beneath your shirt and began to wreck your tummy, shirt slits be damned

you nearly died that night, and it was certainly not the last time something like that happened~

Han:

jisung was shy

really he was, especially at the beginning of your relationship

it took him a while to even work up the nerve to kiss you after you began dating, and even then he was kind of drunk

but somewhere around the 3 month mark, a switch flipped

he began to touch you more and he was more playful

introverts are funny like that

it stands to reason that he discovered how ticklish you were not long after

i mean, how were you supposed to respond when he asked to give you a foot massage? say no?

you tried that, but he pouted and you caved

you sort of accepted the fact that he'd find out, especially when you got out of the shower to find him on your bed with lotion and foot masks

and he looked so fcking cute too, curse you jisung >:(

safe to say he knew something was up as soon as you sat down to offer him a foot to massage

you were bright red, stuttering, and even sweating a lil bit

and when he started teasing?! telling you how cute you looked?!!?

oh no, you were done for

he couldn't even start massaging, you collapsed in giggles as soon as his fingers grazed the bottoms of your feet with lotion

your silly boyfriend started laughing at you, and the next thing you knew, your feet were headlocked beneath his arm and he was going to town on them

you screamed and thrashed, and eventually pulled a foot away and gave him a good kick

bad idea, because now he's gonna get revenge by finding out what other spots make you scream <3

Felix:

felix was totally curious

like you knew he was ticklish (you reminded him of that fact frequently), so shouldn't he know if you were too?

he thought he should

his investigation began one evening when he came over for a sleepover

you, ofc, were expecting nothing but cuddles and romantic cutesy stuff

after your last week of midterms at university, it felt more necessary than ever

felix, on the other hand, was nothing if not conniving

it wasn't his fault that you just looked so cute in your pjs

perfect to test his theories on as well

you had dragged him to the bathroom so you could do skincare together, and then made him sit through a face mask, and then you two finally went to bed

but felix still had to wait for the perfect moment

and he wasn't gonna stop you when your lips found their way to his, small kisses blossoming into a lazy make-out session

emphasis on "lazy" because honestly you could hardly keep your eyes open by the time he pulled away

he giggled and brushed your hair from your eyes, thumb tracing your kiss-swollen lips as he whispered about how pretty you were

you flushed, scolding him about being a tease before you reached to turn off your bedside table lamp

felix suddenly remembered his mission

and his time had arrived

you just barely clicked the light off before felix stuck his fingers right into your armpit, massaging deep circles into your flesh

you positively squealed, unable to stop yourself from falling into witch-like cackles

felix's investigation was a success, and you can bet he'd use these findings again and again

Seungmin:

seungmin tickles you to get what he wants

or at least, he does after he finds out about your weakness

and it doesn't take long really

technically, the two of you weren't even official yet when he makes the discovery

the night before, one thing kind of led to another during an after-party, and the next thing you knew, you woke up in the same bed

wearing very little

anywayyyy

seungmin was the first to wake up in the morning with a raging headache

no lie, he felt like he had been run over by 20 tour buses

somehow, when he saw you, cuddled into his chest snoozing peacefully, he felt less gross

it was probably because he was in love with you, but he wasn't really ready to admit that to himself yet

and he did really have to pee, and he could not do that with you koalabeared onto him

no time to think about emotions or anything

at first, he tried to shake you awake, which proved to be futile

next, he tried prying your arms off from around his waist, but your grip was like iron

finallly, he tried poking and prodding you because he didn't have any other ideas

almost immediately you began to squirm away, trying to fight off the tickles in your sleepy state

eventually (partly because you were too cute gently giggling and partly because now he really needed to pee) he finally dug into your sides and really gave you a good wake up call

you woke up laughing loudly from the tickles, and when your vision cleared, you saw a blushing seungmin making his way to the bathroom

I.N:

Jeongin tickles you when you annoy him

which you do a lot

it's like you were built to push all of his buttons istg

the first time he ever found out you were ticklish, you were making fun of him

it was a personal favorite pastime of yours

(definitely not because you thought jeongin was hot when he was frustrated, no ofc not)

today had just not been a good day for him in the slightest

his voice was a bit hoarse so he couldn’t record, he kept missing steps in their dance practice, and to top it all off he was breaking out from the stress of a new comeback

so really, why were you adding gas to that fire?

usually you only bugged him because you wanted to get his mind off of whatever was bothering him

your teasing was light hearted, and you never had bad intentions

but when you wouldn’t stop asking for kisses, started whining at him after he said he didn’t wanna give you kisses, and then sat yourself right on top of him and refused to move… that’s when he got fed up

and yet you kept it up

jeongin decided he needed to do something drastic

and of course he’d never hurt you and he wasn’t truly mad, but he did need to teach you a lesson

so… he set his hands on your hips, looking up at you from where you were seated on his lap, facing him

and he asked if you would move

when you said “no” once again, he squeezed your hips like his life depended on it

you shrieked and fell to the side, trying to squirm away from his evil hands as they tickled you mercilessly

as jeongin pinned you down and made you laugh until you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t help but think about how you deserved this

whatever, it was fun so you just decided to be even more annoying in the future :)

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sculkapologist · 7 months

Text

Was suddenly possessed with the desire for a lil set of profiles for everyone in the Corrupted World minecraft AU!! you can probably tell by their names that these guys started life in the Bendy fandom, but then we got really carried away with MINECRAFT LORE...

the Basic Premise of Corrupted World AU is that when a bit of code gets corrupted, or degrades over time, the world replaces that code with something similar -- a corrupted bit of grassland will be overwritten by the code of nearby grassland. This works fine for most things, but there's nothing else like a Player in the world of Minecraft.................... these little bits of encroaching mob data have been mostly benign, until Joey's curiosity stretches the world to its limits, and the world's corruption becomes more aggressive.

Some basic notes on everyone under the cut!

Jack is an old player whose code changed so slowly that he honestly can't remember a time when he wasn't a little sheepy. A peaceful, friendly guy who loves to explore and makes contacts wherever he goes -- moving from village to village, build to build, to bring items he's found in his travels to trade and sell, sounding his own broken goat horn to announce his wares. Thanks to Jack, the world's far-flung players might be able to start to connect again...

(design by Mochi and Shazz, character by Mochi)

Sammy is a grumpy and strangely cautious player who keeps to himself ever since he escaped from an Ancient City..... changed. He was once an adventurous builder with an exacting sense of aesthetics, but now he's just trying to survive quietly with his sheep. Afflicted with painfully sensitive hearing and infected with sculk, he hides in an underground, wool-insulated home out in the hills and lives the most pacifist life he can manage, avoiding any death that could spread the sculk in his body.

(design and character by Shazz (me!))

Henry was always driven to look out for others, and when he died defending a village from attack, the grateful villagers helped to revive him the only way they knew how. He kind of wishes they'd just let him respawn... not realising some glitching armour had scrambled his health too badly to come back normally. In any case, Henry's gotten attached to the village... becoming more protective of the people there... almost unwilling to leave.

(design by Maf and Shazz, character by Maf)

A bit of a loner with a strange sense of humour, Norman often lingered near the ocean and didn't notice the little changes like not needing air when his water-breathing potions should've run out... until the corruption of his code made it sort of impossible for him to return to land. That's alright; he's perfectly happy to hassle the others when they wander into his territory.

(design by Shazz and Boo, character by Thren)

Wickedly clever with a knack for experimentation, Susie was left stranded in the Nether a long time ago and was determined to thrive even in that hellish domain -- and thrive she did. Now she's gotten a bit of reputation even on the Overworld, both for a mastery of potions and magic, and a cruel willingness to take what she wants.

(design by Boo and Thren, character by Thren)

Ever since Joey defeated the Ender Dragon and heard that conversation between two mysterious voices, he hasn't been able to let go of the idea that there is something more beyond this world of blocks and code -- but this charismatic dreamer has been prying at the world's secrets well before that. He convinced Susie to join him as the first to explore the Nether, talked Sammy into delving into an Ancient City with him, and tried to get Henry to join him in his quest for the End, gifting him code-modified armour that was better than anything his old friend could get. For some reason, though, they all lost contact, and Joey found himself alone in the End, where more code experiments in a land where only one mob is really prevalent had... an effect on him....

(design and character by Boo)

Pete isn't a player at all, he's a villager... but one day he found himself outside of his village, suddenly realised how big the world is, and couldn't resist the urge to explore. He's close with Jack, and has joined up with him on some expeditions to aid his own work as a cartographer. Without the ability to respawn, though, it's significantly more dangerous for him, and the two of them MAY have poked into some evoker magic looking for an alternative...

(design and character by Thren and Mochi)

Linda is deeply interested in the world's history, curious what sort of people or ancient players must've once populated the ruins, and she's also an experienced crafter with a penchant for metalworking. While the world of Minecraft has no real concept of monogamous relationships, she's settled with Henry as her one-and-only... which works out now that he's partially made of metal. Linda hadn't experienced any code corruption until data replacement became more aggressive, and it's still subtle for now. But it's handy to be able to touch things that are burning hot without taking damage!

(design by Shazz, character by Thren and Maf)

Fixing Sammy should be easy enough, Joey thought. Some of his data was corrupted by sculk -- if they can find that lost data in the code somewhere, it just needs to be reintegrated with Sammy. Attach it to an eye of ender, replace one of Sammy's eyes with the eye of ender -- simple! A complete Sammy! ...the lost data itself had other ideas. This strange construct that collected around the eye Joey provided is a mix of Sammy's lost data, garbled junk data, and -- he claims -- the remnants of an Ancient Player from the days when end cities were populated, before everything went so wrong and Minecraft's world became so lonely. His speech is glitchy and garbled, struggling to describe a Game and Code and a True Player that he believes must reset a world that has been "running too long." In lieu of a username, this apocalyptic anomaly goes by "the Prophet".

(design and character by Shazz)

#corrupted world au #minecraft au #block game art tag #minecraft #minecraft oc #trader jack #sculk sammy #iron henry #ender joey #guardian norman #ghast susie #villager pete #blaze linda #masked prophet

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an-au-blog · 17 days

Text

Can we get fairytale-esk au of Law getting turned into a toad or bug or some kind of small critter, his crew/friends into inanimate objects like ricks and trees. As a curse to show him how little he is on the inside and that he will never be loved if he doesn't let himself be. It can be broken with an act of love, as in most fairy tales.

And he thinks it's a dumb idea to even try so he never does because most of those things are a trap. He tries in his own ways to lift the curse but is always unsuccessful.

Until one day, Luffy stumbles upon a talking critter and thinks it's the coolest thing ever. Law tries to run away from him but he's small and gets motion sickness from the man who carries him around all day while running around and generally being the most irresponsible human on earth. Law thinks that if Luffy doesn't get him killed, he might get Law killed. It's a horrible experience and he feels weak and small and overall a wreck of a person... But Luffy also laughs at the things he says and makes Law feel warm, he shows him things and places Law had never thought of appreciating until they were pointed out to him. And Luffy listens to him when he tells him he has to go back to where he was and doesn't laugh at him when he tells him about the inanimate objects who were his friends.

But he also leaves. When the next day Luffy doesn't come back, Law knows that it's true he is unlovable and will stay in this cursed form forever. But then Luffy does come back and explains where he's been in an enthusiastic way and Law listens and hates himself once he catches himself enjoying this person's company.

Eventually Luffy approaches him with the "how come you can talk" and Law explains the curse, to which Luffy laughs. In angers Law at first because, ok, rude. But then he says "If that's all it takes you should have told me sooner!" and grabs Law. The critter tries to warn him that he doesn't know if he won't get turned too when it's not actually love, but then He feels a kiss on the top of his head and then is looking at Luffy's bright smile with human eyes. At first he couldn't believe it, freezing in place but Luffy laughs going "Wow you're really tall, they should've turned you into a giraffe instead!" Which kind of pisses Law off because it's a stupid joke but before he could react, he gets knocked down by his friends, now in their original form hugging him and thanking him for staying with them through it all.

Law still wonders how Luffy could actually love someone like him for his personality none the less, but then he watches Luffy and he makes it look so effortless.

#idk i think it'd be cute #SEND IF YOU KNOW SOMEONE THING LIKE THAT or any fairy tale like stuff w those idiots #lawlu #lulaw #luffy x law #op

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marcusakito · 8 months

Text

Cruel Words

Kabukimono x gn!reader

You catch Kabukimono saying awful, nasty words while he was out on an errand. When you confront him about it, you learn a sad truth about the puppet.

cw: none, really.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You are Kabukimono's love, the one he chose to entrust his heart to. The puppet was still a little confused about emotions, yet he knew his love for you was true. You met in Shakkei Pavillion, you had joined Niwa and the others the day they found him. Ever since then, Kabukimono always stood by your side, rain or shine, day and night.

Not that you minded, of course. Kabukimono is such a dear, always so eager to help with housework. And in turn, you taught him everything he wanted to know. To experience joy, deal with sadness, and most importantly, to empathize with others. It put a smile on your face, seeing him learning all these strange new things in the world with child-like wonder. As for him, well, he couldn't ask for a more patient and kind beloved.

One autumn day, Kabukimono watched you from the dining room of your shared home. You were making lunch, two bowls of unagi chazuke, which you knew was his favourite.

"Is it ready yet, [Name]?" Kabukimono asked, approaching from behind and leaning over your shoulder to watch. You giggled softly, turning to face him.

"No, not yet, I still need to cook the eels and brew the tea." You explained.

"I can help you! I can brew the tea while you cook the unagi." He looked up at you, an expectant look on his face just waiting for you to agree. Really now, how can you say no to such an adorable face?

"Alright," You pointed to the small bucket across the room. "We're out of water, so you'll have to get some at the well. Stay safe, okay?"

"I will, [Name]!" Kabukimono rushed over to the bucket, lifting it up and holding it close to his chest. You watched as he raced out of the house, making sure he was headed to the right direction before returning your attention to the kitchen stove.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

It had been a while since Kabukimono left to fetch water. You were beginning to get worried, looking out the window for any sign of him. Was he lost? No, he couldn't be. He's been there plenty of times to fetch you water. Were there lots of people? No, even if there was, he should've still returned minutes ago. Did he break the bucket? The well? No, that can't be it either...

Oh no.

Could it be he was attacked by Kairagi? Or treasure hoarders? Or rift wolves?

Without a second thought, you're already putting on your sandals at the entryway. You run to the well, where you find Kabukimono safe and sound. You breathe a big sigh of relief as you observe what the puppet was up to. He was pushing on the well's lever, which seemed to be stuck. Knowing his strength, however, you knew he was more likely struggling not to push too hard rather than pushing as hard as possible.

He hadn't noticed you yet, too preoccupied with his predicament. You decided to continue watching, to see if he could handle the problem on his own, or to stop him should he almost break the lever.

"Useless, pathetic..." You heard him mutter under his breath. That can't be right, perhaps you imagined him say that, no? That is, until he continued on. "Weak, unnecessary..."

"Kabukimono!" The poor puppet yelped loudly at the yell of his name. He turned around, looking like he'd seen a ghost. Upon realizing it was you, he immediately smiled and ran up to you.

"Sorry it's taking so long, the good-for-nothing well won't work." You frowned, making him confused. "Don't be sad, [Name], I'll get the water as soon as I can!"

"No, no... Kabukimono, look at me." You placed your hands on his shoulders, a stern expression on your face. "Who taught you those words?"

"What words?"

"Those words you just called the well. Useless, weak, pathetic, all those. Who taught them to you? Don't tell me it was Katsuragi..."

"No, I learned them from my creator." You paused, completely caught off-guard by that response. It dawned on you that he didn't fully grasp the meaning of those words, he more so repeated them much like a parrot, a downside to his immaturity. "She called me that, so I thought you call all bad things that."

"Oh, Kabukimono..." You sigh, taking him by the hand and sitting him down on a nearby large rock. "You're not a "bad thing." Okay? Don't ever think that. You're an amazing, wonderful person, and Niwa, Katsuragi, everyone in the village loves you and appreciates you. Especially me, I love you, and don't ever forget it." You placed a kiss on his cheek. "So don't say those words alot, okay? They're... Bad words. Cruel words. Saying them can make people upset if they think you're talking about them."

"But, I'm not saying it to people. I'm saying it to the well."

"I know, but still, It's not good to make saying them a habit. You could accidentally slip up and insult Katsuragi, or a child, or even me." You sit next to him, placing your hand on top his, rubbing circles on the back of his hand. "Instead of being mean and forceful on the well, why don't you try a different way? A more peaceful way."

You heard Kabukimono softly hum to himself, contemplating on his next move. He stood up and headed back to the well, with you following close behind. This time, he inspected the well's crank, fixing the lever that had gotten stuck. And just like that, it was up and running again, and he collected a bucketful of water, showing it to you with pride.

"I did it, [Name]!" You smiled and patted his head, Kabukimono easing into it with a few giggles.

"Good job! Now let's go home, our unagi chazuke will be cold if we wait any longer." He nodded and you placed a kiss to his cheek before you both headed for home.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Bonus:

"[Name], what about 'shit'? Is that one of the bad words? I heard Katsuragi-san say it when he bumped into a tree by accident. Oh, and also 'fuck.'"

"..."

Needless to say, Katsuragi got quite the scolding later on. No one ruins the precious baby Kabukimono's innocence and gets away with it.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

I hope you guys enjoyed reading this, and I know I seem a little mean thinking Ei would've said those to Kunikuzushi/Kabukimono, but hear me out. I'm aware she had good intentions leaving him so that he would be free, but my friend and I headcanon that she would say things that are mean for the sake of him not getting emotionally attached to her, and in turn she wouldn't get attached either. It's a byproduct of her being a little emotionally detached, she wouldn't see it as a wrong thing to do, because in her eyes, without a bond between them he would've taken the "abandonment" better. But that's just what we think! Anyway, have a good day, afternoon or evening!

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin kabukimono #kabukimono #kabukimono x reader #genshin kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi #genshin wanderer #wanderer #wanderer x reader #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader

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justlikemebutsixfootthree · 1 year

Text

direction -

pairing: matty healy x f!reader

content: fingering, unprotected sex, matty can't shut the fuck up™, overstim

wordcount: 3743

this blog is 18+. minors, do not interact. this blog is a safe space. no hate or disrespect of any kind will be tolerated. all work is my own. do not reupload my work on any other site without my consent.

a/n: the people have spoken

your motto has always been "fake it till you make it". what started as something you'd say to yourself to get over anxieties slowly bled into other areas of your life, relationships included.

fake confidence until you have it. fake experience until you get some.

easy, right?

well, over time, you've become a pro faker. people rarely approach you cause they think you're arrogant.

and that suits you. who has time for superficial relationships anyways?

but then you met matty, who's gentle, kind, funny, smart. he never gave up on you, even if you sometimes came off as stand-offish, even if you acted like you were too good for him and men in general, even if you fought him every step of the way, surprised by his determination.

in the beginning, you played along. you let him try to woo you, let him compliment you and take you out. you responded to all of his texts, even if you are both too old to be texting like high schoolers. slowly but surely, he made you drop the façade, at least around him, which is when your relationship became more than just teasing glances and flirty texts.

everything led up to where you are now: in matty's stupidly comfortable bed, wearing his stupidly warm sweater, kissing his stupidly pretty face.

the movie he had put on was some cheesy horror flick: lots of fake blood, shitty special effects, and a naive main character. it's long forgotten though, mediocre soundtrack serving as background noise to a much more exciting activity.

you've always prided yourself on how strong you were, not being easily swayed by your sexual urges. fake it until you make it - but what then?

what if matty expects you to rock his world tonight? what if he thinks you'll take the lead, with the same (fake) confidence you do everything else?

technically, you know how it should all work, but you have no first-hand experience. your sexual endeavours end pretty fast, either with you giving up on the guy or them thinking you're too demanding for someone who isn't putting out. either way, it’s good riddance, and you’ve never had regrets about not having sex before.

once, during your intense college years, you had to present your research in front of all your peers. the stress caused you to lose sleep, and you replaced eating with frantic rewriting. by the time the due date rolled around, your brain was scrambled, and you were positive you were going to puke all over the front row of desks.

now, underneath the warm weight of your boyfriend, you’re feeling exactly the same way. what if you manage to do something so revoltingly off-putting he can never look at you again?

"hey."

matty's soft voice shocks you out of your quickly spiralling head. he's looking down at you with gentle, but confused, eyes.

"you've gone all stiff on me, love. you feelin' okay?"

you should've known he'd see through your wall of false confidence.

"y'know we don't have to do anything, right? you look like you're about to cry."

you refuse to dignify that with a response as heat floods your face and, mortifyingly, prickles in your sinuses. he sighs, rolling off of you and laying on his side, facing you.

“that was meant to make you laugh.”

you try to smile at him and feel your lips wobble instead.

“hey. i'm being serious, what’s going on in there?” he brings his hand up, stroking his fingers through your hair.

“i don’t want to repulse you,” you whisper.

he frowns. "you've got a horrific confidence problem. there is nothing, and i mean nothing, repulsive about you. and besides, i've already seen you at your grossest. remember when you got mono and your neck was all swollen?"

you glower at him. “yeah, and i caught it from you! that makes me feel so much better.”

shaking his head, his next words are insistent.

“i mean it. did you know, that every time we go out, someone tells me how lucky i am? c'mon, darling, you know i wouldn't be saying this shit if it wasn't true.”

“i know, and i want to, but fuck, matty it's going to be so bad.”

“well yeah, with that attitude it will. we’re gonna figure out what you like, but only if you want to.”

his eyes are soft, looking down at you with unguarded warmth.

clearing your throat, you fidget nervously with the edge of your (his) sweater.

“so. how - um - how do you want to...?”

he grins crookedly. “move to the middle of the bed.”

swallowing hard, you follow his instructions, legs splayed flat out in front of you as you lean back on your elbows, staring at him expectantly.

“this is about you, okay? whatever you want to do, we can do. including nothing, if it doesn’t feel right.”

your voice is barely more than a whisper. “want you to touch me.”

you could swear you hear a little hitch in his breath, and mustering all the courage you have, you meet his gaze. his mouth is slightly open, the curved bow of his upper lip revealing the edges of his white teeth, and you watch as he presses his lips closed, nodding.

"okay. you gotta talk to me, yeah? tell me if you want me to stop, if something feels good, or if you want more. deal?”

“deal,” you breathe back.

he moves, bending his head to press his mouth on the side of your neck. something splinters hot down the centre of your body, and it takes you a second to realize that it’s desire, pure and hard, crystalline. you can already feel slick warmth in your underwear, and you haven’t even started.

“oh,” you gasp, the round syllable small in your mouth, and he lowers his hand, smoothing down the bunched fabric of your (his) sweater, following the swell of your hip, moving slowly so you have time to breathe.

“good?” he murmurs, and you nod dumbly.

he inches lower, hand flat on your leg, fingers resting just a hairsbreadth from your centre. matty drags his hand lightly along the inside of your thigh, opening his mouth on your neck, tongue hot as he presses it to the softness of your skin.

“how ‘bout now?”

“mhm,” you manage.

unbearably careful, he brushes the tip of his index finger along the seam of your pants, the pressure light, but precise, right against the place you’re most sensitive. your left leg jerks as though you’ve been shocked, and he freezes his hand there, lips sealing around your neck, holding you until you stop twitching with alarm.

you can already feel a steady pooling in your underwear, and you shift uncomfortably against him, unsure if you’re doing it to relieve the ache between your legs or to increase the friction against you.

still moving with absolute restraint, he presses down, a slow, controlled line directly down the centre of your cunt. the tension in every single joint is making you shake, muscles burning with the effort of holding still, and you swear you feel something crack as he eases his touch up to rest at the waistband of your pants, before sliding his hand underneath.

“you still with me?" he murmurs and you can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe.

his callused fingers are resting just above your pussy, palm lightly pressed to the rise of your mound, and he lifts his lips to graze your ear.

“you gotta talk to me,” he reminds you.

you shudder, releasing your held breath, shoulders sore from the stiffness of your body.

“yes. yes, i’m - it’s good, please don’t stop.”

he opens his hand, letting his middle finger drag slowly between your folds, and you feel it at the same moment he does; you’re soaked.

so unbelievably wet it feels like something’s gone wrong and you want to shut your legs and crawl away from him. your skin is prickling with heat as you feel a slow line of sweat roll down the back of your leg, making you squirm, desperate to shuck your skin.

“oh, baby..." he breathes, the edges of his teeth scraping your earlobe. “you’re soaked.”

clenching your eyes shut, your is voice petulant as you murmur back to him.

“i can’t help it, i don’t know why, it’s not my fault. i -"

“shush. it’s so fucking hot. you’re so reactive,” he says, voice gravelly. he slides a second finger to join the first, parting them and spreading your folds. even through the fabric of your pants, you can both hear the slick sound and you want to die; burrow into a hole somewhere and never come out. as though sensing your squirming agony, he chooses that moment to ease both fingers inside you, and your heart stops in your chest at the slow stretch.

this is matty. your matty. and right now his fingers are inside you, stretching you open.

the thought alone is enough to make your entire body throb with a sudden, overpowering pulse and you feel yourself clench around him unconsciously. he groans into your ear.

“you’re so tight. shit, you feel perfect. does that feel good?”

you can’t speak, nodding helplessly against him. he withdraws a couple of centimetres, easing back inside slower but deeper than before, hooking his fingers slightly inside you. your hips flex against his touch, trying to encourage him to keep moving as he rolls his thumb over your clit, and you see stars.

matty's touch feels as confident as the way he performs; like he was born to do this; like he could do it in his sleep.

he drags his fingers inside you, and your pelvis lifts unconsciously to follow his movements, trying to chase the feeling.

“you’re doing so good, baby. you're so pretty, so fucking hot. y'gonna come for me, love?”

despite the intensity of the sensations between your legs, it’s his words that tip you over the edge. you bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying to contain the high-pitched groan as your muscles clamp around his fingers, cunt fluttering. You feel your warmth coating his fingers, and he rides you through it, his movements only easing to a stop once your body has relaxed into a melted heap draped over him.

slowly, he withdraws his fingers from your pants, sliding out from underneath you and lowering your malleable, floppy limbs onto the bed. you watch him drunkenly as he sits up in front of you on his knees, gaze snagging on his hand.

you’re mortified at the sight of the clear viscous fluid stretching between his parted fingers, and you just about die of embarrassment as he brings his hand to his lips, sliding them into his mouth and sucking them clean.

“perfect. you’re perfect,” he tells you, and you want to cover your face, but you’re pinned there, watching. his pants are tented tellingly in the front, and you’re trying not to make it obvious but you can’t tear your gaze away.

“told you. nothing wrong with you,” he informs you, grinning.

“i’m gonna take your pants off,” he says, and you lift your hips helpfully, earning a little twist from his lips at your enthusiasm. sliding your legs free, he settles on his knees. your eyes are drawn back helplessly to the bulge in his pants, and he catches you looking.

“matty, i want - want you to...”

“what, love? c'mon, talk to me.” he crawls up over you, braced on his hands and knees, leaning down.

“fuck me.”

he raises an eyebrow. “you need a break first?”

in response, you lift your hips to press against the hard outline of his straining cock. he ducks his head, leaning his weight up on one arm as he kicks his pants down and you watch the muscles in his shoulder work through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“i’m gonna fuck you so good, baby. you want that?”

“yeah,” you whisper. “yes, do it, please.”

“do what?” matty asks with a wry smile. he’s propped up on one elbow now, gazing down into your raw, open face. “c’mon, you've got to say it for me, angel.”

you let out a shaky sigh, a hand sliding down to the back of matty's neck. you pull him close, so your lips brush. “please fuck me. need you so bad.”

matty's eyes flutter closed for a moment. he breathes out hard, then leans away, and sits up. he's struggling with getting his pants all the way off, so you help the best you can, feeling fluttery and strange, in a feverish trance of pleasure, dumb with anticipation for more.

“please,” you mutter, “please, come on, i want it-”

“fuck, fuck, okay…” matty says, chuckling. “you gotta take it easy with the begging, sweetheart. i’m already putting everything i have into not coming the second i get inside you.”

flushing, you brush the stray curls from matty's face. "you said you'd make it good. so shut up, and fuck me already."

"there’s my favourite brat,” matty says with a grin, then he’s holding himself at your entrance, easing in slowly, a hand on your waist.

he’s big. you have a moment of panic at the stretch, and you gasp, hands flying up to grasp at his forearms as though you could somehow control the movement of his hips that way.

his teeth are pressed to his lip, eyes shut, and you wonder exactly how tight it is for him as he shudders through an exhalation. he forces his eyes open to look down at you, concern evident, checking up on you even as his arms shake with the effort of holding still.

“oh, sh - shit. you good?”

nodding, you release your own held breath with a shudder, your entire body trembling violently underneath him, thighs aching from how tightly wound your muscles are. he sinks down another inch and you both hiss in synchrony, your fingers tightening around his arms just as his tighten around your waist.

“you’re doing so good baby, you’re taking me so well, you feel perfect,” he’s breathing, the fullness unbearable. you arch your neck to look down at where you’re split open around him, the sight enough to make your breath hitch in your chest. he looks down in time to see your eyes widen, and he follows your gaze, his strangled intake of breath following.

“you see that? see how perfect you are? fuck, you’re so beautiful, you’re so tight, you feel incredible...”

you press your lips to his, stopping his unhinged babbling. you’re trying your hardest just to concentrate on taking his thick cock, breathing through the desperate ache as he slowly forces you open. he parts his lips against yours and you press your tongue against him, seeking more. his groaning response makes him slip, losing control for one second, just long enough to let him sink the rest of the way inside you. he’s trying to break from your lips, but you don’t want to listen to whatever it is he’s about to say, so you gently bite down on his lower lip, holding him captive. his hips flex helplessly into you as he tries to talk again, and despite your breathlessness, you could almost laugh at the fact that even now, typically; matty healy just cannot shut the fuck up.

the agonizing, all-encompassing stretch is slowly easing into something else; something bright and hard, sending skittering shockwaves up through your stomach. experimentally you flatten your feet on the bed under you, using the leverage to push your hips up and—shit, it’s too much, too full, you can’t possibly take any more of him but then right there, the angle shifts, and something snaps in your brain.

you wrench your head back, keening as you try to grind up into that spot, that fucking spot. matty's eyes are unfocused, his expression pained.

“baby, wait, wait a sec,” and you can’t help but roll yourself against him again, making him choke.

“what’s wrong?” you breathe back, unable to keep still, your legs trembling with the effort of holding yourself up against him.

“is this...not good?” you ask, suddenly small.

he doesn’t answer right away, and you watch as sweat beads on his upper lip, his eyes still squeezed shut.

“matty?” you try again and he makes a strangled sound, eyes snapping open to pin you down.

“say my name again,” and you barely shape your lips around it before he’s hissing, driving his hips down to smack hard into yours, knocking the breath from your lungs.

“d’yknow how - how many times i’ve thought about this? About being inside you like this?” he punctuates his words with short, hard thrusts. “you’re fucking perfect. your pussy's, fuck - fucking perfect.”

your face erupts with heat at his words. he catches you flinching and his eyes light, grinning even as you watch the muscles in his shoulders shake with the effort of controlling himself.

“why’s that make you shy? don’t like me talking about your pussy? you wanna know how good you feel, baby? you’re—shit,” another shallow thrust, his brows pinching together, “so tight and, fuck, taking me so well…” his rambling trails out into nonsensical murmurs.

he’s slowly working into a rhythm, flexing his hips backwards, still short and shallow but he’s angling himself so precisely, right against the place where you can’t stand, and it’s too much. you squirm back into the mattress, trying to escape, but there’s nowhere to go as the sensation swells to a crest. you tighten around him, your legs falling limp, your fingers creeping up into his hair, needing something to brace yourself against as the growing reverberations between your legs throb outwards, filling your stomach with heat.

you can almost see your orgasm rocketing up through you, your vision cutting out right as you shatter with a pathetic moan of his name. your cunt clamps down on him hard, again and again, rippling around him. he watches you fall apart, his breathing steady despite the tremor in his limbs. he barely gives you a minute to recover before he’s moving again, deepening his thrusts, expression one of absolute focus. the sheer concentration in his eyes scares the shit out of you; you know that look. it’s the one he gets whenever someone tells him no to an idea in the studio, when someone says that he shouldn't put out another black and white music video, when his bullish stubbornness completely takes over.

matty leans back, raising himself onto his knees between your spread legs. he brings a hand under each of your knees, crooking your legs up around his waist as he works in and out of you, the wet squelch of your cunt loud over the muffled sounds of the forgotten movie as he begins to fuck you in earnest. you can’t breathe, incapacitated by the shuddering of your legs, your stomach muscles clenching as your body desperately tries to keep up with your frantic gasping. your back is arched, your shoulders forced down into the bed with the force of each thrust as he reaches down between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit as easily as though your body is laid out the same as his guitars or keyboards, practised and nimble.

sweat prickles your skin anew as his fingers drag you higher and incomprehensibly higher and you wail, slapping a hand over your mouth to still the sound. he leans over you, the triangle of bare skin at his chest gleaming with sweat, fine silver chain glinting under the edge of his shirt. he grabs your wrist and moves your hand aside, pinning it to the bed beside your head.

"hey, hey. c'mon babe, let me hear you." he times a perfectly-aligned thrust with a firm stroke over your clit and, unable to stop yourself, you let out a breathless moan. he grins, chuckling breathily.

"god, you sound so good. prettiest fuckin' thing ive ever heard," he murmurs, voice ragged. he rips the sound from you again, and again, watching greedily. it’s too much, way too much and you’re already over the edge of another orgasm before you realize what’s happening, eyes rolling back in your head, mouth open in wordless pleasure.

this time he doesn’t slow down, instead increasing the pressure on your clit, fucking you deeper. his cock hits something sharp high up in your guts and you sob as another orgasm rolls up from your stomach, washing over the last climax. your hips twitch helplessly against his grip as he fucks you through each wave of pleasure, and you think you’re coming again, or still coming, you can’t tell anymore, time losing all meaning as your cunt sucks wet at his cock, bearing down on him vice-tight.

some impossible time later, you realize his breaths have shortened into gasps. his hips stutter and he leans back down over you, arms braced on either side of your head as his pace falls out of its steady rhythm. you manage to regain control of yourself long enough to reach a hand up to the back of his neck, feeling the hem of his shirt under your fingers. he looks down at you, and his mouth drops open, eyes dropping shut as he groans your name, low and rough, and as he plunges in deep you actually feel him coming before he does. his back curves over you, his forehead pressed to yours as his hips shudder, and the tightening of his stomach muscles against yours is echoed inside you as his cock throbs, filling you.

he lays heavy on your chest, both of you panting. everything is so slick underneath you, you can’t tell what’s sweat and what’s cum, your skin feverish. you shift your thighs restlessly, sticky and aching and he raises his head, looking down at you.

“was that...okay?” you breathe, self-conscious again.

his eyes shut briefly as he shakes his head.

“you’re crazy. she’s crazy,” he says to nobody in particular, lifting himself over you, hands pressing into the mattress.

gasping, you sit up on your elbows to look down at him.

“what are you doing?”

his tongue laves long stripe along your still-sensitive pussy, dipping briefly inside before he breaks the contact to look up at you, eyebrow raised.

“cleaning you up. you thought we were done?”

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doumadono · 4 months

Note

Hiiiii, sweetheart.

Emergency Request here...

As you may know I got stood up by a a person I considered... My friend. The person was my friend since junior high school, despite some "turbulence" in past I kept in touch with her.

I got stood up on New Year's eve. I prepared something warm to eat, snack, drinks... I even planned some nice movies to watch and games to play... And she didn't show up nor she picked her phone. I saw her being online but that's all...

Eh, I feel a little pathetic if I can be honest.

I just... I need some comfort from Erasermic... I just want my two fav men to cuddle me or something like this.

Proszę, dziękuję i pozdrawiam. 🐺💎

Our very own New Year's Eve - Erasermic x Reader

A/N: I'm still angry that you had to go through such a disappointing experience, especially from someone you considered a friend for so long (but I told you before what I think about her). Your effort to create a warm and welcoming New Year's Eve atmosphere speaks volumes about your kindness and thoughtfulness. It's completely understandable to feel hurt and disappointed. Please, don't waste you time on someone acting like a total jerk. I hope this little piece will cheer you up, even if a little bit ♥

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

As the early morning light streamed through the windows, Aizawa and Yamada returned home after celebrating the New Year's Eve with their fellow UA teachers. The sight that greeted them was unexpected - you curled up on the couch, a gentle sob escaping your lips as you cradled one of your cats on your lap.

Aizawa's brow furrowed with concern, his strict demeanor ready to address the situation, but Present Mic placed a calming hand on his shoulder, guiding him to the side. "Shota, let's figure out what's going on first." In a hushed tone, Present Mic whispered to Aizawa, "Our kitty is visibly upset, and the last thing she needs is us being stern. We need to show her love, not discipline."

Aizawa's usually stern expression softened, concern etching lines on his face.

Yamada, with his ever-present energy, approached cautiously. The sight of you in distress tugged at his heartstrings. "Hey, kitten, what happened?" Mic's voice was gentle as he sat beside you, his hand reaching out to stroke your hair.

You looked up, tear-stained eyes meeting his concerned gaze. "I-I got stood up by a friend," you managed to choke out, the hurt evident in your voice.

Aizawa's brows furrowed, a protective instinct rising within him. "Why didn't you call us? We would have come back immediately," he said, his voice tinged with a mix of anger and worry.

You sighed, a shaky breath escaping your lips. "I didn't want to ruin your night. You were having fun with your friends."

Aizawa's stern expression softened slightly at your words.

Mic was quick to intervene. "Babe, your happiness is our priority. You should've called. We're a team, remember?" Hizashi took your hand, squeezing it reassuringly, while Aizawa wrapped his arms around you in a protective embrace.

"We're here for you, always," Aizawa murmured, his usually gruff voice surprisingly gentle.

Mic planted a soft kiss on your forehead. "Let us make it up to you. How about a New Year's celebration of our own tonight? We'll have dinner, music, drinks — whatever you want."

You looked up, confusion evident in your eyes. "But New Year's Eve is already over."

Mic grinned, his infectious energy returning. "Who cares? It's our house, our rules. Besides, I'm declaring a second New Year's Eve celebration tonight. We're going to make it unforgettable."

Aizawa rolled his eyes but couldn't hide a small smile. "He's impossible, but he's right. We'll make sure you have a fantastic night to remember."

And so, the duo spent the morning turning your living room into a makeshift celebration space.

In a hushed conversation away from your earshot, Present Mic convinced Aizawa that showering you with affection was the best way to ease your pain. "Let's show her all the love we've got," he insisted.

Present Mic, determined to lift your spirits, took charge in the kitchen. He prepared a feast that would rival any high-end restaurant, showcasing his culinary prowess. The savory aroma filled the air as Aizawa joined in, silently supporting his friend's efforts. The dining table was adorned with an array of dishes, each one carefully crafted to appeal to your tastes.

As the evening progressed, Hizashi decided to add a sweet touch to the celebration. "Hey, sweetheart, how about we make those chocolate cupcakes you love?" he suggested, an optimistic glint in his eyes.

Despite your initial reluctance, the sadness pouring out of your existence, you found yourself nodding. Hizashi guided you through the process, his infectious enthusiasm turning the task into a shared experience. Mixing ingredients, laughter echoing in the kitchen, the cupcakes baked to perfection, their rich aroma adding to the ambiance.

After the delicious dinner and sweet treat, the three of you migrated to a cozy set of couches. Hizashi pulled you gently between them, his arm enveloping your shoulders. Aizawa's legs intertwined with yours, his rough hand tenderly caressing the curve of your hips.

Present Mic pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, whispering, "You mean the world to us, you know that, kitty?"

Aizawa added, "We're here for you, no matter what."

You felt a comforting warmth envelop you, surrounded by the two men you cherished. The presence of your cats, peacefully napping nearby, added to the serenity of the moment.

"Tonight's about leaving behind what hurt you and embracing what brings you joy," Hizashi murmured, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your arm.

Aizawa, not one for excessive words, simply nodded in agreement, his gaze conveying a depth of understanding.

The ambiance in the room was a delicate blend of warmth, laughter, and the lingering scent of chocolate cupcakes. As you snuggled between Aizawa and Present Mic, the conversation continued, weaving an intricate tapestry of shared moments.

Hizashi, his voice gentle, broke the silence, "You know, those cupcakes taste even better with your smile."

Aizawa, offering a rare smile, added, "He's right. Seeing you happy makes everything worthwhile."

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a surge of gratitude for the two men who had orchestrated this evening of comfort and joy.

Yamada grabbed a throw blanket, covering the three of you as you leaned into his embrace. "Now, let's continue this night with some chill vibes," he suggested, grabbing the remote to cue up your favorite show.

As the opening notes of "Home Alone" filled the room, Hizashi's fingers tapped the tip of your nose. "One of the best holiday movies, right?" he mused, his eyes reflecting the flickering light of the TV.

Aizawa, arms still wrapped around you, chimed in, "Classic. The kid's resourcefulness is impressive. If my class was in charge there, those burglars would pray to be sent right into the Tartarus."

Shota's remark caused Hizashi to choke on the sip of his coke. "Shota, dear Lord, ease up on the kids. They're nice kiddos!"

"Yeah, I wish they could ease up on me, so I could get some damn rest," the black-haired man grumbled.

You giggled, resting your head on his chest, rising and falling slowly with each breath he took.

The movie played in the background, the familiar scenes casting a nostalgic glow over the room.

You released a contented sigh as the movie came to an end. "Boys… Thank you."

"That's not the end!" Hizashi grinned at you, leaping out from under the covers, leaving you exposed. You nuzzled closer to Aizawa, seeking warmth.

Aizawa's hands reached around to your back, rubbing it gently as he planted a tender kiss on your lips.

Just as Present Mic returned, he huffed a little, looking a tad offended. "I was gone for thirty seconds, and you're already claiming our girl yours, Shota?!" He presented you with three glasses and a bottle of champagne. "I was keeping this hidden for a nice occasion, and it arrived today! Shota, come here and open it for me. You know I'm a bit clumsy."

Aizawa efficiently opened the champagne, the cork popping with a satisfying sound. He poured the sparkling alcohol into the glasses, handing one to you as you gracefully got up.

Present Mic, raising his glass, declared, "To you, my loves! To my sweet, charming kitty." He reached his free hand out, rubbing your cheek, "And to my one and only, handsome as hell Eraserhead." He grinned at Aizawa.

Shota acknowledged with a nod. "To you guys. May this year be better than the last."

You raised your glass, a smile playing on your lips. "To my handsome pro heroes, always ready to serve and protect. To my two absolutely cute boys that can turn into wild tigers in the sheets!"

Aizawa scoffed a little, but Present Mic playfully pointed out, "Look at that, kitty, you made Aizawa blush!"

Shota downed his champagne and glared down at you, his thumb rubbing against your lips. "So how about we move to the other part of the celebration now, kitten?" His tone was low and seductive, causing a familiar tingling in your abdomen.

With a mischievous grin, you nodded. "Yes, please. Let's celebrate our very own New Year's Eve." You bit your lower lip, adding, "I can't wait."

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sashaisready · 4 months

Text

Chapter Fourteen - A new development

Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again

Warning: Near car/pedestrian collision, angst! Bucky still being terrible, but don't worry - a taste of his own medicine is teased in this chapter..

18+ - see Masterlist for full list of warnings

Chapter 15

Series Masterlist

It had been nearly a week and you hadn't heard anything from Bucky since That Morning. You had replayed the events over and over in your head but you still didn't know what you'd done wrong, how you'd gone from falling asleep in Bucky's arms with his tender whispers in your ear...to being unceremoniously barged out of his house with the offer of fifty dollars for your trouble. Your best bet was that he wanted to sleep with you after all your back and forth over the last few months, and now he'd achieved that, the mask had slipped and he had no reason to play nice. Another notch in his bedpost. Another item off his to do list.

You knew at the time you should've asked him outright what exactly had changed, but you were hurt and embarrassed, and you lashed out in anger like you always did. And you didn't want him to think you were weak and pining over him.

Wanda had been shocked by the evening's sharp left turn after she'd gone home. You had caught her up in the bakery and she was disgusted by Bucky's actions. She had stood there angrily frosting a birthday cake while you recounted what happened, uttering a series of curses under her breath in response. Some were in Sokovian – you didn't know what she said but could tell they were bad.

You were hurt. You knew sleeping with someone didn't mean you were exclusive or they owed you anything, but you expected a bit more kindness and respect – especially from someone you had got to know quite well over the last few months.

But maybe that was your own naivete, you knew what Bucky did for a living – it wasn't a stretch to imagine that he would be just as cold in his personal life too.

It was a relatively quiet morning in the bakery when the bell went. You looked up smiling ready to greet the customer when you felt a wave of nausea hit you as you saw who it was.

Bucky walked in...with a beautiful blonde woman on his arm. She was stunning. Of course she was. She smiled at you sweetly and you managed a small one back at her before your eyes flicked over to Bucky.

He was stoic, unreadable. You glared at him, doing your best to convey your anger to him without completely losing it. He gave you a smirk in return.

Asshole.

Bucky knew this was a risky game. He hadn't spoken to you since you stormed out of his home and he missed you. He didn't know what to say, how to make it right. He knew he should stay away, he'd tried, he knew that you were too good for him – but he couldn't resist. You were like a magnet he couldn't avoid. He knew you were angry and he wanted to apologise but his pride was getting in the way.

He had drafted countless texts but sent none of them, he frequently brought your name up in his contacts and tried to summon the courage to press the call button. He wanted to go back to how it was before, teasing each other, bantering and besting one another. He thought if he could bait you into an argument then he could draw you out again, rile you up and see that electricity in your eyes he loved so much.

And what better bait was there than another woman?

You cleared your throat and greeted them sweetly. "Hi, welcome to Pepper's Bakery. How can I help you today?"

Thankfully your voice betrayed none of your true feelings. That was years of customer service experience paying off.

"Oohh..." said the blonde. "I mean it all looks so good but I'm on a diet right now and shouldn't be eating sweets...I'm sorry, I'm probably the last person you want in your store!" she giggled.

You had no interest in being cold to the woman, no interest in punishing her because of Bucky's childish little games. She hadn't done anything wrong, and she seemed nice enough. No, there was only one person to be angry at here.

"Well if you're ever in the neighbourhood and having a cheat day you're always welcome here" you told her warmly.

She smiled back at you and nodded encouragingly as she looked over at the display cases. Over her shoulder you looked at Bucky. You kept your face frozen, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of getting worked up, but your eyes made it clear you were unimpressed.

"I'll take a couple of danishes, and a cannoli" he told you gruffly.

Prick. And what ever happened to 'please'?

Your hands began to build the pink box on autopilot and you wordlessly packed his order.

Bucky frowned. He was hoping for fireworks, to push you that little bit further and ignite that anger within you, resulting in his favourite back and forth. He wanted to see the fire from you which always sent a quiet thrill through his belly.

But no. Nothing.

Your face was neutral, there was no fight in you. No appetite to go toe to toe with him.

He realised suddenly that he had gone too far. You weren't angry. You were hurt.

His eyes searched yours as you pushed the box over the counter at him and he pulled out his wallet. He was almost trying to communicate with you telepathically, telling you his true feelings and that you were all he thought about. You only stared back at him defiantly, eyes narrowing as you handed him the card reader. Your mouth was a thin line of disappointment.

He tried to smirk to see if that would light the fuse for the reaction he so desperately sought but you merely dropped his gaze.

He pulled a hundred dollar bill out and slid it across to you but you grabbed it from him, crumpled it into a ball with your fist and flung it back at him. He flinched as it struck his chest, then swept it back into his wallet.

"That won't be necessary" you said coldly, eyes burning into him again.

He tried to say something but you cut him off.

"Thanks for your custom Mr Barnes" you deadpanned, making it clear that this interaction was over.

"And lovely to meet you" you said to his companion in a kinder tone.

She earnestly grinned back at you. "I'm Allegra by the way".

Allegra then gushed about how lovely the shop was, peacefully oblivious to the tension in the room.

Wanda watched nervously from her side of the store as the scene unfolded, examining your face. She knew you were hanging on by a thread.

Bucky opened his mouth to speak but closed it again quickly. He wanted to apologise, to take it all back. He thought about how you felt in his arms. How your moans had sounded in his ear. How thrilled he'd been to finally get to that point with you...and now he'd ruined it. Ruined everything. Destroyed the foundations of everything he'd built with you. Guilt and shame overwhelmed him but he still wore his stoic mask.

You just continued to glare at him as Allegra spoke, your brow furrowed. You felt nausea rising up inside you once more. His eyes looked different now to the smugness they'd reflected when he walked in. Was there...regret in there? Surely not. He was probably relishing your humiliation.

Allegra hooked her arm with Bucky's and guided him to the exit as she shot you a cheerful goodbye. Bucky followed meekly, watching you intently over his shoulder as he left the store. His eyes were on you for as long as possible until he disappeared out of view.

You waited a moment before your knees finally buckled and you crashed onto the counter as the tears finally broke the dam and began to fall. Wanda was on you in an instant, her arms wrapped around your torso as she nuzzled her head into your back, quietly soothing you.

You were feeling a little more together when you closed up, locking the doors and stepping out onto the street. You had cried a bit in front of Wanda, embarrassed for her to witness your vulnerability but grateful for her comfort. She had asked if she could do a spell to punish Bucky which cheered you up, but you declined, insisting she shouldn't waste her precious energy on such unimportant subjects. You had managed to power through the rest of the day, throwing yourself into work and distracting yourself with customers as the clock finally rolled around to closing time.

Your tears had dried but you still felt awful. Embarrassed. Hurt. You didn't expect to marry Bucky after your night together and you knew that neither of you had made any commitments to one another. Still, cancelling your date and rubbing another woman in your face at your workplace was uniquely cruel. You felt stupid for allowing yourself to get caught up, to have feelings for him, for entertaining the idea that he might like you too. It was clear now that you were nothing but a plaything to him. A toy to wind up and watch it go. Something to amuse him, a way to blow off steam between whatever hideous mob business he was getting up to in his 9-5.

You understood now.

And that Allegra woman he was with - she was the type of girl he wanted on his arm. Tall, willowy, beautiful. The type of woman who looked like she'd stepped off a fashion magazine. A walking Instagram filter. Not you, who was pleasant enough to look at and fun for a quick fuck, but not someone you want to show off - not beautiful. How stupid you were.

You were lost in your thoughts as you wandered towards home. But not so oblivious as to miss the black SUV parked across the street, as subtle as a pink sock in a drawer of white ones. You waved mockingly at it and it slowly rolled around the corner out of view, but you could still glimpse the back of it if you squinted. You knew he wasn't in it as he would've made an appearance by now. Just his goons inside, most likely. Was it not enough that he'd humiliated you, he had his little lemmings following you again??

Your hurt began to mutate into anger as all of your emotions twisted and fizzed within you. All of the fury and outrage you felt towards Bucky was now channelled like a laser beam onto this stupid car. You let your rage lead the way as you stormed towards it, determined to give the occupants a piece of your mind regardless of how big or terrifying they might be.

Any common sense evaporated as you marched into the street in pursuit of the SUV. In fact, you were so single minded that you didn't even notice the yellow taxi speeding towards you until you heard the screech of brakes and tyres squealing on asphalt. You turned at the last second and caught a glimpse of the driver's panicked eyes before you realised it was about to hit you, and it was too late for you to move...

You squeezed your eyes shut and braced for impact as a forceful pressure wrapped itself around your torso and yanked you onto the sidewalk. Suddenly you were on the ground, trembling as you realised you were looking at the sky - wondering where the car had hit you. You thought it would hurt more than this, was it a bad sign that it didn't hurt? Oh god, were you paralysed and that's why it didn't hurt?! Wait...something else had hit you...

A handsome man with sandy brown hair popped into your view, his forest green eyes filled with concern as he watched you carefully. You glanced at him, realising you were laying on your back in the street.

"You all good? That was a close one huh??" he said. His voice was friendly, warm.

He turned to the cab driver who had parked up and was watching you just as nervously.

"She just came outta nowhere...I tried to stop but...I mean if you hadn't been there..."

"It's alright" said the green eyed man calmly, cutting him off. "She's fine, she just had a shock. Don't worry, I'll make sure she's okay".

The cab driver muttered angrily as he stepped back into his car and pulled away.

"Do you think you can sit up?" asked the green eyed man.

A few passers-by were watching with morbid curiosity. The man extended his hand to you and you took it gingerly, pushing yourself up as he pulled you upright so you were sitting up on your knees. You blinked, looking down at yourself to check you were still in one piece. You certainly seemed to be. Just slightly winded by how you hit the sidewalk.

"I'm okay" you said nervously as you wiggled your fingers and toes to check for any pain.

"Oh good, phew".

He sounded genuinely relieved. And kind.

"Did you...save me?" you asked with trepidation.

He smiled. "Saving is a bit of a strong word but right place right time I guess" he grinned. "I'm just sorry you had to eat sidewalk in the process".

You felt yourself soften at his caring smile, all of your anger and upset about Bucky suddenly gone. He seemed...nice. Really nice.

"Thank you. Really, thank you" you smiled bashfully as you stood up, brushing yourself down. "If you hadn't been there..."

You trailed off as you looked him up and down. He was dressed casually in a red leather jacket and dark jeans. A far cry from Bucky's expensive tailored suits. You could tell he was in good shape though, sturdy and strong. Handsome...

"I'm Peter" he said happily as he extended a hand to shake. "Peter Quill".

You took his hand and shook it shyly, giving him your own name in return.

"Of course you have a beautiful name too, why I am not surprised?" he said.

You blushed at the compliment, visibly taken aback by his forwardness. You weren't used to men picking you up so openly. It was a refreshing contrast to Bucky's little games – not having to wade through words and implications and figure out what exactly was meant.

He screwed his face up in embarrassment. "Oh God. I'm sorry. That was cheesy..." he said, his voice pained.

You chuckled, feeling yourself smile widely for the first time all day. "Actually it was very sweet" you countered.

He grinned at you, his eyes drifting over your dungarees. You felt a bit underdressed in your work attire, covered in flour and icing stains, suddenly wishing you were a bit more presentable.

"I like your overalls" he said.

"Thanks" you replied, fingers pawing nervously at the buckles.

"I work at Pepper's Bakery down the street. Although I did realise earlier I'm wearing a yellow t-shirt with them today so I look a bit like a Minion..." you joked.

Peter's eyes widened with amusement. "Oh my god...you kinda do..." he spluttered.

You laugh uproariously. "You're not supposed to agree??" you snap incredulously.

"I'm sorry but it's true. But the minions are super cute right? So you fit right in..."

He shot you a wink and you felt a surge of warmth in your stomach. This was exactly the balm you needed after a horrible day.

"Pepper's huh? Love that place" he grinned.

You light up at that. "You do?? Oh that's great to hear. Yeah it's a nice place to work".

He nodded earnestly. "Best danishes in the city, in my humble view".

"I'll have to save you a few when you next come by. Y'know, least I can do for saving my life and all". The words seductively roll off your tongue before you even realise it.

You stop dead, wondering if you've been too forward with him. Bucky had really thrown you for a loop when it came to interacting with men. But Peter's grin just grew wider and he leaned in closer, his face near yours.

"And tell me...do you get much downtime? Time away from the bakery? Or is it all work and no play?"

His voice had dropped an octave as he moved in and his eyes locked onto yours. You find yourself instinctively leaning towards him too as your heart beats heavily in your chest. You're so close you could almost...kiss him.

"I do work shifts so my days off can be different. But I always have at least two off a week" you smile.

"Oh that's good, so a lotta free time to spend with your boyfriend then?" he asks coyly.

You giggle and your face flushes at yet another direct question. "No boyfriend, currently..."

Absolutely no-one, actually.

He nods again. "So, hypothetically...if I were to ask you out...you'd be able to meet me for dinner one evening?"

"Absolutely, hypothetically. But maybe we should stay away from cabs" you quip.

He laughed. "Sure. But I may need some pointers on where to go as I have no idea what minions eat..."

You exchange smiles as he passes his phone to you to add your number, which you give him gladly. You chat for a bit longer and suddenly Bucky feels like a distant memory. You've even completely forgotten the reason for your impulsive stroll into traffic.

As you say goodbye to Peter and practically skip home with glee, the SUV emerges from its poor hiding spot and follows you from a safe distance. In the passenger seat Clint pulls out his cell, hitting the first number on his speed dial.

"Boss...uh, a new development for you..."

#mob bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader #bucky barnes #mob bucky au #mob bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #sweet and sour fic

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dairy-farmer · 5 months

Note

Tim's first love was a boy.

And he wasn't just any boy, no. This boy had blue eyes the same shade of the sky. This boy spent more time in the air than he did the ground. This boy was a bird meant to fly free forever and always. Tim's first love was a boy named Dick Grayson. *The* Dick Grayson. The kind, the gentle, the passionate.

Tim's first brush with love was... an experience. It felt exhilirating, exciting, terrifying in a fun sort of way. It was an addictive drug that made Tim confused.

He did everything for him. Praised him. Adored him. Loved him. Anything a tiny boy the fresh age of 9-13 could do. He did.

But that wasn't enough to make Tim Dick's first love.

Tim's first love was Dick Grayson. And that ended in a tragedy. (For Tim at least. For Dick, it was one of those awkward little things where you gently tell a little kid 'no, I won't marry you and have babies with you. Why? Because you're a baby yourself.')

...

Tim's second love was also a boy.

This time, his eyes were a shade of green-blue. The color of the lake that Tim used to play around in when he was smaller. This boy was in every way the opposite of the first. He'd been melded with the earth so many times, he could be considered more rock than person. He was fierce, a fiery flame that would only grow stronger the more you try to extinguish him. He was emotional, a poet, a lover. If Dick Grayson were a nobleman, gently whispering promises of love into a maiden's ear, then this boy was a soldier promising his loyalty to her out and loud, kneeling on the ground while she stood on the balcony.

Tim's second love was a boy named Jason Todd.

If Tim's first love was a tragedy, then his second love was a *catasrophe*.

'I'm done with love.' Tim decides to himself as he blurrily watches red hood smear Tim's own blood on the walls of his home.

'So. Done with it.' He thinks, finally fainting with the echoes of red hood's laughter in his ears like some twisted little lullabye.

...

Tim's third love came as a surprise. She was a careless thing, hopeful and determined to be a defender of justice. It was cute. Clumsily cute. Like watching a tiny pup play around in a new environment. His feelings for her came out of nowhere- like the brick she used to hit his face the first time they met. She was pretty. Everything about her was pretty. From her hair to her laugh to her smile to her- well. Everything.

She liked him too, actually. They lasted a while. But trust and communication got in the way. She was someone who spoke with actions more than words and... turns out Tim doesn't quite get her actions that well. Not that he wasn't someone to blame as well, turns out trust was much more important in a relationship than both knew.

It was a puppy love kinda thing they had. Something they'd look back to once in a while. Meant to meet but not meant to be.

Bummer.

Oh well, c'est la vie for a vigilante. He chose this life, and nothing would make him regret it.

...

Tim's fourth love almost made him regret the cool vigilante life style.

But. To be fair.

Batman made everyone regret something at least once in their life.

Tim should've known falling for the 'dark and brooding' kind of guy would only end in a disaster. Batman, despite being the greatest detective on earth, saw absolutely no signs that Tim liked him like that. It was so frustrating! Why on earth would Tim fall for someone so! So!! Bruce!!

Bruce was womanizer, someone who caught every lady's eye everywhere he went no matter who he dressed up as (Even as Matches Malone he caught some eyes. Ugh. It's like crushing on a celebrity that you personally knew. Jealousy was so not a good color on Tim.)

Women loved him, so was it really a surprise when Bruce got with Selena? His on-again-of-again girlfriend that kinda treated Tim like some kid. He wasn't even Bruce's kid! Why! Ugh.

So, like a stubborn man who decided to get better taste in crushes. Tim's fourth love ended in bitter tears and a promise to do better.

...

Tim's fifth love was somewhat expected. Half the hero population already considered them dating, actually. His fifth love was electrifying in an exciting way. They knew each other too well. Tim had Kon's entire person memorized and Kon had his heartbeat memorized. Kon was a breath of fresh air compared to his previous crushes. He knew exactly what Tim was thinking, he trusted in him wholeheartedly. He loved Tim in every way that mattered. They liked the same things, made fun of each other's tastes in a way that doesn't hurt. Kon felt like Tim's old teddy bear Mr. Honeypot, who Tim told all his secrets to and loved dearly in that nostalgic, "you'll always be my teddy bear" way.

So that's why they didn't work out. Because Kon will always be Tim's clone-boy and Tim will always be Kon's Robin. Being with Kon would feel like getting married to your best friend in your late 30s. They were each other's safe option, the last choice. Tim just. Didn't like Kon that way no matter how hard he tried. It felt too much like making out with an alive mr. Honeypot. Tainting something sweet and innocent.

Tim's fifth love ended in an awkward goodbye. (For tim at least. For Kon, it was the most heartbreaking heartbreak he had ever felt.)

...

Tim's final love was. Well. It was funny for one thing. Tim's final love was someone who he thought he'd never get along with- much less get with. He was a spiteful man, with vocabulary far too old for his age. He was someone who had a sharp tongue to partner with his quick wit. Emerald eyes that glimmer in the dead of night and soften once it was on Tim. Tanned skin that looked so good mixed with Tim's pure white bedsheets. Muscles that could go for days and a gentle laugh that had Tim's heart beating at an odd pace.

Tim always knew he liked older people. Even steph had a few months ahead of him. He liked being the younger in the relationship. The only person he wasn't technically the youngest in a relationship with was Kon, but that's because Kon doesn't even have double digits in age. (Kon joked once that his birthday should've been on febuary 29th, that way he'd never reach double digits.)

So it came as a surprise when Tim found himself falling for Damian of all people.

Yeah. Tim likes the brat.

But in his defense. Tim has never felt more pampered. Sure it wasn't getting with an older guy, but it sure *felt* like it. Damian loved to do everything for Tim. Acts of service. How gentlemanly of him. He massaged Tim's feet, fed him grapes, did everything Tim asked. He even led during sex which. Wow. Tim has never felt that good, by the end of it all his legs were shaking and he was fucked literally senseless. He had to be carried for a day and a half cause he lost the feel in his own body. Damian cherished him, as if he was some precious jewel that belonged in a treasurecove guarded by a dragon or something.

Damian always had this whole smug face and smug aura whenever he paraded Tim around. It was like the cat that got the canary. Tim doesn't really get it, but it was a cute expression on his face so Tim let him parade his body around ('really, it should've been the other way around' Tim thinks. 'I should be showing you off instead')

Tim's last love is the best love he's ever felt. It was amazing. It was heaven. It was. Jesus. It was Damian. Isn't that enough of an explanation?

...

"So. Y'think baby bird knows we like him yet?" Jason nudges Dick as they watch Damian twirl Tim around in the air.

Dick shakes his head, smiling softly at the scene. "Nope. Tim doesn't have a single clue. But, to be fair, he did like us before though. Guess it just wasn't time."

Jason blinks at him. "Y'mean he liked you. Don't think pretty bird there ever liked me." He scoffed.

Dick smirks at him. "Oh? Jaybird, didn't you know?"

Jason rolls his eyes at him. "I think I'd know if Tim had a crush on me."

Dick nods. "Tower incident that's when he stopped."

Jason blinked.

"He what."

Dick shrugs at him, turning around to purposefully miss Damian kissing Tim on the mouth. "Yeah. I don't think liking him same time he liked us would make anything different though. I was too old, you were... you. And Bruce is. Bruce."

Jason gasped. "Oh my god, he liked Bruce too?"

Dick nods, biting back a shit-eating grin. "And guess what? He almost said yes to Kon."

Jason dramatically gasps, both hands coming up to his face. "You mean! They weren't ever together!"

Stephanie jumps on Jason's back out of nowhere. "We're talking about Tim? Puh-lease. As if any one of you even had a chance with him. Least I got to try him out~" she purred.

Jason pushes her away, laughing lightly. "Yeah yeah. He's with the demon-brat now. But I'm calling dibs if they break up!"

Dick punches his arm. "Too bad, I called dibs first!"

!!!!!!!! this was so good!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! all of tim's loves being the bats and how they ultimatly disappointed or hurt him- except for kon and damian. and with damian tim was finally able to find real reciprocal love❤️❤️❤️❤️!!! poor kon though, that tim was his most devestating and most heartbreaking loss💔!

but damian being the one who loves tim back, who treats him well, who makes tim happy!!!!

even with his brothers calling dibs in the end, no way will damian ever let tim slip through his fingers like they all did!!!!

#answered asks #asks #anonymous #dicktim #brutim #jaytim #damitim

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blueaetherr · 1 year

Text

he’s gonna love them

pairing: kylian mbappe x gn!reader [they/them]

warning(s): none

summary: the one about safety and security in the relationship

now playing: gonna love me by teyana taylor

The young day provided a calm atmosphere, the sun hanging low yet offering a sense of warmth in an area so cold. The wind came through, too, as the breeze slipped passed the opening of the windows. The sun and her heat, the wind and his chills—suddenly, there was balance, for the day and everyone else offered the opportunity to experience it to its fullest.

The couple, Kylian ad Y/N, who were lounging in bed, softly laughing, curling up into one another, gave a sense of balance to one another. When he told a joke, they would laugh (even if it wasn't funny). When there was one kiss, another kiss would follow soon after. When he opened up his arms, they would roll back into his embrace. If they were feeling the slightest touch of pain, he would soothe it with an acute massage.

It was only late morning and the young couple didn't want to get out of bed; they refused to. The idea itself, getting ready for the day, was exhausting simply just thinking about it. But they knew they couldn't be selfish. There was so much to do– Kylian with football and Y/N with their tasks for the today– so many other people they had to interact with—just so much this and that to attend to. Beyond one another, the two were needed by others far beyond their home.

But laying low from the outside world, escaping the tasks of the day, calmly drifting in and out of sleep, exchanging meaningful (and less) laughs and conversations. Sleeping in with your lover—Kylian sleeping in with his lover, Y/N sleeping in with their lover—the idea was all too pretty and attractive to pass up on, something so cherishing that you shouldn't want to miss out on. Maybe they could be a bit selfish for a minute and more.

The mood, low and quiet, soon kindly elevated when Kylian's hums began to float around the room. And that's when Y/N came through with a smile, one that was dimpled and reached their eyes perfectly as they cuddled into his body. It was their favourite song, Gonna Love Me. With nothing else to do, they just sat back and listened to him, admiring everything that was their partner.

Because Kylian also saw everything that was his partner. Always did he want to hug and squeeze them with so much love and dote. He loved spending his nights with them, and he did appreciate them (through lyrics and his own originality). He would stay up late if it meant witnessing them for a second when they got back home late. There was no doubt that Y/N felt safe and secure with Kylian.

When his hums fell low in the room, a playful look appeared on Y/N's face. "I don't think that's how Teyana sings it."

"Really?" His eyes widened before he let out a small chuckle. He should've known; Y/N was far too judgemental yet somehow, in a good way, in a way that he didn't mind. He fell back on the bed. "I thought I hummed it pretty well."

Y/N scoffed, shaking their head. "Then you must not be hearing yourself. I think—" They were cut off as Kylian pulled them back down on the bed, climbing over them to offer his playful words and body touch. In this short but sweet moment, there were laughs and kisses and overall enjoyment. Nothing less than the most.

Exhaling loudly, they turned their head to look his way. Once again, they offered him a smile, one that was kind and sincere. Tooking his hand into theirs, they declared, "Thank you, Kylian."

His face pulled together, confused, something Y/N always found adorable. "For what?"

"I love this. Just—" they let their hands run over his bare shoulders, sighing, "just being here with you every day. It's both a blessing and a curse." The two shared a small laugh together. When it all fell flat, they leaned further into his embrace, "But I'll side more with it being a blessing."

Slowly but surely, Kylian's face burst with happiness as he brought his partner close. Felt happiness for himself, felt happiness for Y/N. 'Cause that's all he wanted for them.

When he sings or hums, he wanted them to feel deeply serenaded. When he cooks, he wanted them to feel nourished and whole. When the two get intimate, he wanted to make them feel good, physically and emotionally. When he takes them out on a date, he wanted them to feel overwhelmingly loved and cherished for who they were. When he wraps his arms around them, he wanted them to feel safe.

That's all he cared about; Y/N. If they were okay then everything else would be alright.

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burningvelvet · 3 months

Text

My analysis on Heathcliff and his relationships, and some interesting excerpts from Juliet McMaster's "The Courtship and Honeymoon of Mr. and Mrs. Linton Heathcliff: Emily Brontë's Sexual Imagery" via JSTOR (TW: abuse, sa/sexual violence, generally graphic and potentially triggering content)

*note: I've had half of this in my drafts for a while. My last reblog, which discusses Heathcliff's lack of attraction to Cathy II, inspired me to finally expand on & post it. That reblog is here: https://www.tumblr.com/burningvelvet/738896230943522816

Cathy II is one of my favorite characters and I think her dynamic with Heathcliff is fascinating. I would say that while he may not be attracted to her (indeed, he sometimes seems repulsed by her) his behavior toward her IS explicitly predatory as it includes lying to her, manipulating her, physically abusing her, kidnapping her, and forcing her into a marriage in which he helped to seduce her with love letters under his son's name.

Combine this with his behavior toward his wife Isabella, in which sexual violence may be easily inferred as he says Isabella hated him a day into their marriage (and sure, some people conceive on the first try, but what are the odds? and the concept of marital rape didn't legally exist back then) — not to mention Heathcliff calling her a slut (sexually violent epithet* *editing this post to say that "slut" was a mainly gendered term, but in Brontë's time it didn't have today's more sexualized meaning; for most of history it primarily meant "slovenly" aka messy/careless), and both of them vaguely referring to heinous abuses she undergoes in private (and what could be worse than what we already know about his treatment of his subordinates). With how determined he was to get a male heir, and that being the whole reason why he married her, it is not much of a stretch to assume that he bedded her multiple times until she showed signs of pregnancy. It is a very easy thing to infer actually.

He was probably as insulting and as violent (or at the very least, cold) with her in bed as he always was in every other aspect from the very start of their relationship. As they both confirm that she receives his abuse openly (until her escape), and as she wishes to be a "good wife," she likely did not struggle to avoid her "marital duties," but again, she clearly hates him for most of her marriage, and we learn that she despises him immediately after their marriage when the veil finally fully drops. And with how upfront with her he initially was about his intentions, and how his own verbal admissions + outright verbal abuse failed to quell her desire for him initially, what more than physical and especially sexual violence could have led Isabella to despise him so soon after their consummation? Their sexual experiences couldn't have gone splendidly for her, and for him it was likely a mechanical chore he likely resented and was therefore probably not delicate with (he hates delicacy anyway).

Yet, while Heathcliff is violent and predatory (in the colloquial as well as the primal, animalistic sense, as he is always related to nature even in his very name), he also contains hints of a long-buried goodness, as we all know, and this is what makes him a fascinating protagonist. He has a capacity for strong feeling, a deliberate if not faulty moral code, and he sometimes shows kindness accidentally.

This is why Heathcliff catching baby Hareton is such a pivotal moment in the story, because it is only after he saves his life that he actually realizes what he's done and then muses that he should've let the child die. This scene shows that his natural subconscious instinct is actually good, and that his external situations are what have shaped his darker impulses on the conscious level. In other words, he causes us to examine the nature vs nurture debate.

Despite later abusing him, Heathcliff sees Hareton as a son-like figure in his own twisted way, and in the end as he loses his life forces, he gives Hareton and Cathy II his blessings like a father would — he essentially is Hareton's father, and he is legally Cathy II's father-in-law, first through his son Linton and then we could say through his unofficial adoption of Hareton, who he says he would have preferred as a son. So Cathy II has Heathcliff as a sort of double father figure, though of course she would never accept this.

At one point, Heathcliff notes that he takes good care not to do anything that could be proven to be criminal or illegal. In his usual exactness, he was pretty much right. He is always tip-toeing the line of immorality: in the gothic literary tradition, his relationship with Cathy I has incestuous undertones, but they are not legally or biologically related, and so he skates by.

He declares that he has no regrets and that he's done nothing wrong by technical standards. Manipulating, lying, mental and physical abuse of one's financial dependents, and marital rape (hypothetical or not) were all within legal bounds for the most part, and even the forced marriage of Linton H./Cathy II was done through the process of emotional blackmail (and physical evidence in the form of her love letters) so that in his mind, he wasn't actually responsible.

However, Heathcliff may have reasoned that sexually abusing one's daughter-in-law in revenge may be in violation of the law; that he would gain severe detraction from his "slaves" Nelly, Hareton, even Joseph; and that if such a huge scandal broke out, he would have a harder time finding tenants, etc. — also, I don't think Heathcliff would have felt like he "needed" to sexually abuse Cathy II to get revenge against her/her family, because as he says, at that point he already has his revenge and his victory; he already has her lands, and degrades her every day by forcing her to be a servant and a slave, and by abusing her in every other way. Sexually abusing her would be an extra effort on his part.

And I don't think he would gain anything out of it aside from revenge. I don't really think Heathcliff has much sexual interest in anyone at all, probably not due to inborn asexuality but due to his depression, trauma, emotional repression, and general issues. Although he and Cathy I have an extremely passionate spiritual relationship, I can't say that I believe he ever experienced fully actualized/conscious sexual feelings even for her. Considering their youth and rocky position when he leaves her for his hiatus, and the very brief period of their reunion, their relationship was likely never "consummated" — or at least I see no hard textual evidence to suggest that it was, although I'm sure many people could probably argue against this. And regardless of whether or not he and Cathy I ever had a physically sexual relationship, I don't think he could ever really be seriously attracted to anyone but her.

But in order to get his revenge, he did bed Isabella likely multiple times until her pregnancy. And as McMaster demonstrates below, by encouraging Cathy II to marry his son — and quite literally seducing her himself by writing love letters to her under his son's name — Heathcliff essentially beds her by proxy, if not in actuality. He wants her property, and he wants her, and because his son is the same age as her and dying, he decides to use him as the perfect pawn to access her by

If Linton H. died before he could be married to Cathy II, would Heathcliff have attempted to marry Cathy II on his own? I think this is a fascinating topic to theorize about, and I can only assume the answer would be yes, because Hareton wouldn't have worked as a pawn, though perhaps Heathcliff would have simply manipulated Hareton to sign over Cathy II's inheritance to him instead (as the laws of marital coverture meant husbands were entitled to 100% of their wives money/property/inheritance). But at that point Heathcliff was still looking for revenge (and therefore may not have been adverse to getting it like he did in his first marriage with Isabella), and he may not have wanted to be financially responsible for the newly weds and their potential offspring, or to suffer legal repercussions if Cathy II or someone else convinced Hareton to hire a lawyer lol. But I digress.

And as the last quote in the following list demonstrates, I think it was not only a touch of the gothic incest theme that Emily was going for by having Lockwood assume Cathy II is Heathcliff's wife, but that it was intentionally symbolic of how weird and difficult-to-define their relationship is: they don't act like father and daughter in-laws, but he is legally her provider and in-house patriarch, and she is the lady of the house, and she is the closest thing to her mother he has. I could write whole essays about that last point & the similarities of both Catherines, such as their fearlessness, particularly toward Heathcliff (and I believe this makes him uncomfortable and even scares him at times).

---

Excerpts from Juliet McMaster's "The Courtship and Honeymoon of Mr. and Mrs. Linton Heathcliff: Emily Brontë's Sexual Imagery" via JSTOR:

"Linton is called at one point 'only a feeble tool to his father' (205). In the sexual context he becomes a sort of human dildo, which his father uses to rape and degrade the second Catherine, the child bride whose birth caused the death of the Catherine whom Heathcliff loved."

"'Making love in play, eh?' says Heathcliff of the young couple, with grim jocularity (188). And that is the way in which Bronte develops this courtship of juveniles."

"Heathcliff even writes half of Linton's love letters for him, so that they turn out 'singularly odd compounds of ardour and flatness,' 'copious love letters, foolish as the age of the writer rendered natural, yet with touches, here and there, which I thought were borrowed from a more experienced source' (182), records Nelly. Catherine is being wooed by son and father together. And when the time comes, the marriage is consummated by the same team."

"[Linton] takes his pleasure, when Catherine pushes him off, in summoning his father and in witnessing the physical domination of his bride [..]"

"After Heathcliff abducts and incarcerates young Catherine and her attendant, he keeps our narrator, Nelly, imprisoned for 'five nights and four days' (220). Meanwhile the marriage ceremony is performed, but we have no one to describe it for us."

"'She's not to go; we won't let her' [..] Now more than ever Linton's life and opinions are ruled by his father: he can do little more than parrot what 'he says.' If Linton's satisfied mein suggests the happy bridegroom, his role as husband, lord and master is shared with his father."

"Heathcliff testifies, 'I heard him draw a pleasant picture to Zillah of what he would do [to Catherine], if he were as strong as I. The inclination is there' (228). Linton evidently has a conception of himself and his father as complementary in this sexual context, part of a team."

"Heathcliff's appropriation of the property and physical abuse of the bride leaves her in effect deflowered. His brutal blow that makes the blood flow recalls his symbolic defloration of Isabella, Linton's mother, when he hurls the knife."

"[Heathcliff] won't listen to Nelly's pleas that since he hates the young couple he may as well let them stay at the Grange. 'I want my children about me, to be sure,' he answers with chilling irony; '—besides, that lass owes me her services for her bread' (227). One wonders what sort of 'services' he has in mind. He apparently intends to prolong the honeymoon at which he has assisted. And as he takes her away, there is some doubt, as in Lockwood's mind at the beginning of the novel, whether Catherine is Heathcliff's daughter-in-law or his bride [..]"

Source: McMaster, Juliet. “The Courtship and Honeymoon of Mr. and Mrs. Linton Heathcliff: Emily Brontë's Sexual Imagery.” Victorian Review, vol. 18, no. 1, 1992, pp. 1–12. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/27794707.

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thelaughtercafe · 1 month

Text

Sell Your SOUL*

Tea Type: Coffee

Potential Triggers: Mildly dubious consent for hypnosis

Pairing: Baggs/Reader

Length: 2.7+

Summary: You are a Human who opens an Empath clinic for monster kind; giving them a safe place to let out any emotions they may be feeling. Unlike the clinical and typically detached touch of therapists, you mirrored their emotions back at them, telling them what you felt, gently whenever possible and occasionally harshly if they refused to acknowledge their pain. Alphys finally allows you to meet Baggs, the one you know let them be released in the first place and you find yourself enraptured...he's just as curious about you. Oops. So much for keeping your distance. An interested doctor is a determined one. Hopefully it'll pay off.

After all...

Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

It didn't take him long to notice. You tried though.

God, did you try.

You did everything possible to avoid looking at him when he did it. Actually, it was more like you found an excuse to leave altogether the second it began happening.

Becoming friends with monsters was something that came easily to you, being an Empath. Feeling others' pains and helping them through it in any way you could was what you were used to, and loved doing and none needed it more than Monsters when they came to the Surface. While Humans didn’t even consider Empaths real, Monsters had informed you it was actually a well-known and documented form of healing magic that Human’s once possessed long ago. With their help and support you'd even managed to open your own little practice, mainly catering to Monsterkind. Toriel has been the gateway to meeting everyone, but they all had such pain hidden within that you tried to help with. General had been no exception, nor had Undyne, Asgore or Alphys. Alphys...was how you ended up meeting him and experiencing his ability first hand.

-----

Instantly a chill went up your spine. A subconscious warning from your intuition that you should be careful, despite Alphys' introduction.

"Th-This is Baggs! He's really only allowed here for research, a-a-and his home of course, which is w-why you've never met him before on our outings, but t-truth be told, I'd say he spends more time here than home. Always hard at w-work on some e-e-experiment."

Her voice was light and chipper, but you'd come to know her well enough to see the signs of discomfort, the slight tremble of her voice, the stutter that slipped out here and there, and, perhaps most notably, the way she was very carefully avoiding looking Baggs in the eye, despite the skeleton looking directly at her

"I'll l-leave you two to get acquainted and make some tea and snacks alright? I'll be j-j-just in the other room!"

A warning for him and a reassurance for you.

Ouch.

You winced at the literal sting that went to your SOUL, quick and barely there as you pasted on a smile and nodded at her.

"Sure thing, Alph. I'm sure we'll be fine. I'm not worried."

She smiled despite it trembling at the edges and you felt her relax some before she was gone in a swish of fabric.

"not worried? heh. that's cute, for someone who hasn't deigned to meet my gaze yet. scared, little human?"

You weren't sure what you expected his voice to sound like but it certainly wasn't that. Dark, inviting, damn near on the cusp of being outright seductive while somehow still emanating danger.

You shivered and he snickered again.

You swallowed hard, and then you met his gaze, pushing through the shivers you'd just gotten and instead focusing on the pain you felt coming off of him in waves.

"Actually, I was just waiting for you to introduce yourself. I guess I should've gone first though, huh? Sorry. I'm pretty shy on first meetings, the lack of eye contact has to do with that, not because of what you did. If I was scared I wouldn't be here at all."

His expression didn't change but you felt how he was slightly taken aback, then the apprehension and finally the slight twinge of mischievous glee just beneath the surface.

You withdrew your Empathy just a tad. You didn't like going deep into what everyone was feeling without their permission, but you'd accidentally let your guard go up thanks to nervousness.

His eyes were just as pretty as you'd heard. Pink glowed vibrantly from his left eye as he drew closer, smile unflinching.

"you're certainly quite bold for a human. heh heh. or maybe just naive judging by that adorable blush on your cheeks."

You looked away briefly to try and collect yourself, huffing as you realized he was right. You were so focused on feeling your cheeks and calming yourself down you didn't even register your SOUL had been gently pulled from your chest until its purple glow was in front of you.

"hm. that explains it then. but what's-"

His browbones went down in concentration and confusion as he attempted to reach for your SOUL but you were already reacting, swiftly pulling it back into your chest protectively.

"No! I-please. Don't."

His once mildly friendly demeanor had turned to full on mistrust and you could see it from the blue starting to swirl in his left eye socket without any need for your Empathy.

"what are you hiding, little human?"

You merely shook your head, retreating slowly towards the door but you yelped as it abruptly closed without any input that you could see, whirling to see it slam.

You heard a whistle and when you jerked back, Baggs waved the remote with an eerie grin.

Oh, how the tables had turned.

"No offense, sir, but my SOUL isn't any of your business."

His smile widened, yet somehow he only seemed more menacing despite the even, soothing steps he took towards you. They echoed, perfectly in sync and never faltering. His tone sounded genuine but you could feel the underlying condescension and mocking.

"well that's not very nice of you, now is it? i thought you wanted to be friends. i'm merely curious. perhaps i can even help "

You gasped as your back hit the door and he easily caught your chin between his phalanges, and tilted your head to make you look at him, blue and pinknow both swirling evidently in his left eye. his voice was a purr.

"and please, do call me baggs. i much prefer to be referred to with the appropriate amount of reverence when that name is used, and i’ve no doubt you will use it…but not quite yet."

You felt...oddly heavy and the urge to squirm and shiver was palpable. What was happening? You knew you needed to look away, you had to, or else he was going to-

Well, what was the worst he could do? Alphys was just in the other room after all. She'd hear you if anything bad happened. Besides, Baggs was nice. He was handsome. He just wanted to help.

Why were you being so resistant again?

Resistant? Now why would you do that? Baggs was your friend. Don't you confide in your friends?

You searched for something, anything.

Grasped, struggled, for something to lock on to.

Something to feel-

Pure, sadistic, addictive, control

You awoke out of your trance with a gasp violently breaking away from Baggs' grip on your chin before cradling your head, hands shaking, eyes slammed shut and face turned away.

"Don't do that a-again."

You chattered a little, still shivering from the aftershocks of ecstacy forced into you. At least he hadn’t forced you to do anything.

"guess everyone is scared of something after all, hm? pity. i think you're cute when you're all helpless like that, you know. even scared as you are now you're adorable."

Your face lit in flame and the words were the spark you needed to lunge for the door again with a gasp, suddenly recalling the manual switch on the side and nearly bolting out in your haste.

When did you forget? Just how long had he been in your head?

Baggs' alluring laughter followed you all the way to the exit, as did his final words to you.

"see you soon, little human."

-----

Despite your...intense first meeting he hadn't made any effort to antagonize you since when you began seeing him again. He acted as if nothing had happened in fact, merely smiling your way and returning to chatting with Toriel nearby as if you'd had a normal meeting.

Alphys, the only other person who knew vaguely what had happened, as she’d ran out after you, merely sighed.

"A word of advice from someone who's k-known him and worked with him. Don't let him get to you. Or at least, don't let h-h-him know he's g-gotten to you. And...try not to let him do it a-again. It'll just-"

Her voice had quieted conspiratorially with every sentence but she was cut off as familiar bony arms latched around both of your shoulders.

"It'll just what, al?"

His voice was bright but you felt the anger ebbing off him in waves and Alphys abruptly smiled shakily, turning to him in an attempt to not seem afraid.

"you wouldn't happen to be talking about me would ya? haven't ya ever heard-"

"Actually, sounds to me like you misunderstood. You're not interesting enough to warrant talking about Baggs, hate to break it to you. We were talking about a game character. Jeez, are you always so self-centered~?"

Your tone was teasing but your light glare of warning for him trying to frighten Alphys into silence was evident. He didn't seem concerned.

"with a face this handsome? can ya really blame me? anyway, what game? sounds fun."

Alphys was sweating nervously, staring at you wide-eyed but you were quick on your feet.

"Nathan Prescott from Life is Strange. It's choice based, so it's important to not let him know he gets to you or frightens you when he defaces your room in game with a threat. After all, what good is a threat if you don't let yourself be affected by it?"

His eyes lit up then, and you swore you saw his swirl start up, along with the growl that left his lips but Alphys distracted you both by pulling you away.

"Speaking of, I just remembered! We forgot to save! Come on, before Undyne changes the game without realizing!"

You were so proud of her for not stuttering that you missed the swirling eyes following your exit, before he looked down at the object clutched in his digits.

Your phone was held in his grasp, his grin widening as he noticed you didn't have a password.

silly girl.

-----

It didn't take you long to realize your phone was missing, and you told Alphys to go on ahead, and that you'd hang with her later on in the week. Papyrus' car was gone by the time you made it back so he must've gone to drop Toriel and Frisk back home Of course it'd started raining so you were damn near soaked as you knocked.

A few moments later the door opened to a surprised, and then amused Baggs.

"back so soon? told you I was irresistible."

You shook your head, shivering a bit more intensely, making Baggs' eyes immediately scan your body before he grew business-like and moved to walk away.

"come inside, i will make you something warm and then you may take a hot shower. i shall lend you some of my clothes so you do not get sick."

You blinked and then hesitantly entered and nodded, just as you sneezed. Better trust him than get sick right? He was a doctor. He'd been bearable lately; maybe your first meeting had just been a test and you'd passed?

By the time you reached the kitchen he was already setting down a steaming mug in front of you.

"i'll go and get my clothes together. sit tight, and be sure to drink that entirely. it would be a pity if your stubbornness made you ill."

You watched him turn and leave before looking down at the drink in your hands, contemplative. A sip confirmed it was tea, sweet, somehow just as you took it. Paps must've told him about how you always had a mug in your hand. The slight tingle as it went down your throat confirmed it must've been a tea infused with monster magic, which you attributed to be the reason for the extra sweet aftertaste as well. You continued to drink as you let your thoughts take you.

Perhaps General had been right. He'd sensed your nervousness when you'd next seen Baggs while baking cookies with him and had reassured you that his brother was just untrusting of people he didn't know but would warm quickly. Maybe you'd been wrong to be so scared. The propaganda was everywhere; warning of his danger and perhaps you'd taken some of it in subconsciously.

You stifled a yawn and inhaled sharply as when you went to stand and move you swayed; making you grip the table tightly. Familiar fear rushed to the forefront of your mine, one you were used to having around Humans but never with monsters. No. He couldn't have-

"you alright there pet? you're looking a little pale."

His worry was evident and you couldn't help the slight tone of accusation as you sluggishly looked towards him, still not able to move, even as a pleasant shiver shot down your spine at the new nickname..

"What was in that tea?"

He blinked, before a slow smile broke across his face and he casually strode over.

"just a little something to calm you down. the warmth will spread through your system faster if you're calm."

"Why didn't you tell me first then? Or better yet ask? You have to know how this makes you look."

Fuck. Your words were slurring a little, your lips tingling in an almost numb, but not quite way. Everything felt so…hazy.

"how what looks? Giving my shivering friend a warm drink and tucking her into bed, so I know she's safe? it's not as if I drugged you. even small doses of my magic can help soothe. I suppose I overestimated how much you could take, human."

He chuckled, his amusement evident, but you swore you detected worry in his eyes.

"i doubt you can take a shower in this state. come. i'll give you my clothes, leave you to change and then get you settled."

"But- I have to go home."

You tried to protest, struggling to think clearly.

"well, I'm not letting you leave in this state. i'd walk you home if I could but...heh. pretty sure my bro would lose it if i left and he found out later I played hooky. best give in."

You frowned at that, glaring at him as you made to move towards the door.

"Good thing it's not your choice then-"

You were cut off as you were whirled to face him when he grabbed your arm, your equilibrium way off as you struggled to focus on the skeleton in front of you. By the time you realized you were looking directly into his eyes it was too late. That feeling from last time washed over you, blue joining the magenta and spiraling outward. You couldn't deny you felt oddly...safe, and the feeling of his phalanges carding through your hair as you slumped into him was nice.

Baggs is safe, Baggs won't hurt me. Why...am I so tired?

"that's it, good girl. doesn't it feel nicer when you give in?"

Feels...nice. Sleepy. Safe.

You nodded weakly, your filter which would typically make you deny on instinct completely gone. You blushed at your admission and felt Baggs chuckle beside your ear.

"you really do fall quickly for me. how curious. come, let's get you into bed, hm?"

You felt yourself moving and when you all but crumbled into the bed after quickly changing into clothes you didn't bother looking at, you were out like a light to the soothing feeling of bone carding through your hair.

You didn't even hear his parting words before slipping off into unconsciousness.

"what was that you said? what good is a threat if you don't let yourself be affected by it? i think you're right, pet. actions speak louder than words, wasn't that the analogy?"

-----

A/N: There's the first chapter, finally out into the world! So, funnily enough; I've had this fic near done for 2 years now, but just been petrified to publish it for some reason. I think I was panicking over not nailing Baggs as a character well enough, in particular, as well as the way he speaks. Still, I'm glad it's out there now and I can start working on the second chapter- I really hope you all enjoy it!

Please do tell me what you thought; it keeps me writing and motivated as an author!

This fic and also be found at https://archiveofourown.org/works/47766418/chapters/120411676

The amazing (and flustering) Megalosomnia belongs to @megalommi! Please go and shower her in love and adoration <3 This fic would not exist without her!

This is a fic set after Megalosomnia's characters have reached the surface. It's very much non-canon! I don't even believe the creator has brainstormed this portion yet so this is all just me spitballing and having fun with it!

#female reader #tlc: fic #sans x reader #sans x you #baggs x you #baggs x reader #megalosomnia #megalosomnia au #tlc: milk tea #undertale sans #undertale #sans #dr baggs #dr baggs x reader #dr baggs x you #tlc: nsft #tw hypnosis #tw dubcon #tw dubious consent

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